Detective Bonnefoy
by Yumi-Tsubato
Summary: Lord Edelstein was found murdered in his part-time home in England. The case has not been progressing for a month, and so the English call their last resort: the famous dectective, Francis Bonnefoy, who is to be paired with Arthur Kirkland. With a tangible tension  rising from love and nationality, will the two manage to solve the case and find love? FrUk and France x Jeanne
1. Memories and the Beginning

Confession: THE ONLY GIRL I CAN STAND SEEING PAIRED UP WITH FRANCE IS JEANNE!

Confession II: I LIKE ROMAN NUMERALS

Confession III: MY OLDER BROTHER'S NAME IS FRANCIS!

Enough of that xD So I wrote this story inspired by learning about the life of Edgar Allan Poe xD This guy wrote a detective story, where the detective was a Frenchie, and investigating a series of murders that, police suspected, was by the same thing. Now I say thing because, in a horrible twist of Edgar Allan Poe's story, a knife wielding ape did it T_T That's probably the shittiest twist ever...BE REASSURED THAT NO MONKEYS SHALL BE INVOLVED IN MY STORY!

For now, Enjoy :)

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><p>CONTAINS: SEXUAL CONTENT, CORSE LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE AND BLOOD (in the following chapters)<p>

Pairings: FrUk and France X Jeanne (there will be mention of other pairings that aren't as important xD)

PS: Human names alone will be used xD I use the last names a lot so if you don't know them, now would be a good time to go look them up so you know them xDD

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><p><strong><em>ACT I - Phantom of a White Rose<em>**

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><p><em>They laid on a bed, white blankets and covers were a mess. Their naked bodies pressed against one another in a passion only they could understand. Her soft, short, blonde hair seemed to be glowing like the beautiful sun outside. <em>

_It was fit._

_She was the sun in his life._

_The moon, the stars, the sky, everything._

"_Je t'aime…*" She whispered softly as she pressed her pink lips softly on his cheek._

"_Moi aussi…**" The blonde Frenchman responded lovingly. He kissed her shoulder in return and trailed his kisses down her arm and too her hand that he held tightly. This earned him a cute giggle. "Pour toujour***."_

_She smiled at him sweetly demonstrating gratitude and eternal love with that one smile. It always made his heart leap of joy. They shared a short and passionate kiss yet again as the woman placed herself comfortably on the Frenchman's lap. The two exchanged lustful gazes. She leaned in and started kissing his neck._

"_Jeanne…" He whispered in her ear._

_Jeanne smiled and trailed her kisses down to his collarbone._

"_Git."_

_The Frenchman looked at Jeanne questionably. He then brushed it off and kept about his business._

"_Ugly frog, wake up!"_

_The blonde man looked at his love again. She gave him a sweet smile once more before outrageous pain to his skull exploded._

The intense pain to his head woke him up. He starred at the pissed off Brit standing in front of him. His green eyes were blazing with furry.

"Good you're awake!" He hissed. "Take out our fucking tickets Francis."

"Arthur…What did you do?" Francis asked, his French accent bothering his British comrade.

"I hit you with your suitcase!" Arthur answered gesturing to the leather suitcase next to his feet.

Before the two characters could further their conversation, the train conductor arrived. "Tickets." He requested.

"Here." Francis handed him the tickets.

As the train conductor was about to leave, he took a quick glance at the Brit and then the French. "You…I know you both from somewhere." He mumbled.

"Arthur Kirkland, England's best detective." Arthur announced proudly as he lifted his hat slightly from his blonde head.

"Francis Bonnefoy, Europe's best detective." The Frenchman introduced himself winking at the train conductor.

Arthur hit Francis again, harder this time. "Bloody frog! Just because you've solved cases in more than five countries in Europe doesn't make you its best detective!"

"You're just jealous!" Francis wined and rubbed his head.

The train conductor smiled. "Well enjoy your time in England." He said and politely saluted the detectives.

Francis chuckled. "That'll be difficult."

"I'll say." Arthur agreed. "We're here to solve the murder of Lord Roderick Edelstein."

"Yea."

After a few more minutes of sitting uncomfortably in the train, they finally reached the London station. From there they picked up their luggage and found a taxi that would bring them to the countryside where Lord Roderick Edelstein's vacation house was located. On their way, Arthur had been occupying himself with briefing Francis on the case.

"This case has been open for almost a month now without any progress." Arthur explained. "We've interviewed the suspects over and over again but all of their alibis are air tight and have not changed the slightest bit. The investigators are trying to expand the list of suspects but have not yet accomplished that task."

Arthur handed a folder to Francis. "I assume this is the folder containing the list of suspects." Francis stated more than asked.

Arthur nodded. "The first you'll see is Elizaveta Hédéváry." Francis found the picture of a beautiful young, Hungarian woman with long wavy hair. There was a flower on the right side of her hair. "She is the daughter of the wealthiest Hungarian Aristocrat who had good ties with the Edelstein family. They arranged a marriage between Miss Hédéváry and Lord Edelstein to tighten the bond between their families."

Francis nodded scanning the picture repeatedly. She was truly a gorgeous woman, a prize to any man worth a thousand more times than all the gold in the world. However, Francis had known a better woman.

"Next is Lord Gilbert Weillschmidt." Arthur continued. Francis flipped threw the papers before coming upon the picture of a young man a little older looking than Elizaveta. He had short hair and a cocky grin, one that Francis admired. It would bring him far in life that is if he was not accused of the murder of Lord Roderick Edelstein. "He's a good childhood friend of Lord Edelstein and Miss Hédéváry. He had come to visit a month earlier to celebrate the soon approaching wedding day that would have been today. Rumors have it that he fancies Miss Hédéváry."

"This partly explains why he's under suspicion…" Francis mumbled to himself. He flipped to the next document. "Ludwig Weillschmidt."

"As you can guess, he is Lord Weillschmidt's younger brother." Arthur stated as he gazed out the window. They were officially in the middle of nowhere and this bothered him.

"Younger?" Francis repeated raising an eyebrow. "He looks older."

"They get that a lot."

"Why is he put under suspicion?" Francis inquired, "It says here that's he's only acquainted with Lord Edelstein, which is natural considering his older brother is friends with the man."

Arthur looked at Francis from the corner of his eye. "He's under suspicion of being the accomplice of Lord Weillschmidt."

"I take it your prime suspect is Lord Weillschmidt…" Francis assumed grinning amused.

"Naturally." The younger blonde haired detective was starting to sound annoyed.

"I hope it's for a better reason than the rumours—"

"Of course, you bloody idiot!" Arthur snapped. "We're not going to suspect someone **just** because he supposedly loves someone related to the affair!"

"Then what are the other reasons?" Inquired Francis.

Arthur somewhat calmed down but glared at Francis. "I was going to discuss that after we've finished looking threw all the suspects."

Francis nodded and looked at the next photograph. The person's gender had confused him for a moment but he managed to deduce that the person was actually male. He had a goofy smile, short hair with a rebellious curl to the left side of his head. He could never be the murderer.

"His name is Feliciano Vargas. He's the maid." Arthur continued to explain.

"You mean butler or servant. A man can't be a maid." Francis corrected.

"No, maid. Mister Vargas wanted to be a maid so Lord Edelstein granted his wish." Explained Arthur as if there had been nothing abnormal about what he had just said.

"You can't possibly think he's the one." Francis said, almost asking, in a disappointed tone.

"It's possible."

"Not with this face!" Francis defended. "I'm ready to bet all my belongings that he cried at the first question you asked him!"

Arthur didn't say anything, confirming Francis's hypothesis.

"For all we know he could be faking." Arthur mumbled not believing himself.

Francis just sighed and moved to the next and last document. There he found the pictures of two siblings again. Lord Vash Zwingli, a man originally from Switzerland and his little sister, Lady Lili**** Zwingli, a young girl with a sweet face that resembled her older brother a lot.

"I assume you're at the Switzerland siblings?" Arthur asked receiving a nod from Francis before he continued to explain. "These families have never been fond of each other but Lord Zwingli's and Lord Edelstein's hatred seems to go beyond their families' poor relationship. They are also prime suspects."

"If they're from Switzerland why would they be?" Francis asked.

"Do to this _'hatred'_ Lord Zwingli has always felt the need to top Lord Edelstein in whatever he did." Arthur sighed finally turning his gaze to the Frenchman. "So when Lord Edelstein bought his mansion in the country side of London, he bought the one next to it and renovated it to make it grander. Whenever Lord Edelstein goes to his mansion, so does he. It's a way to constantly keep tabs on his rival."

"Strange…" Francis commented.

"Agreed."

"Sirs." The Taxi driver finally spoke up. "We are here."

Even if the case had been open for almost a month, there was still a considerable amount of police vehicles in front of the building. An amount that would make anyone think that an incident recently took place.

Francis and Arthur both stepped out of the car; Francis managed to confuse Arthur into paying the driver for him before concluding their conversation with one last piece of information that still intrigued the blonde Frenchman.

"Now what are the other details that make Lord Weillschmidt a bigger suspect than the Switzerland siblings?" Francis asked.

"We have reason to believe that Lord Weillschmidt was involved in other dark matters." Arthur confided.

"Such as…?"

"You'd have to be a member of my department to know this information." Arthur glared.

"Really?" Asked Francis, disappointment dripping from his words. "That's stupid! We're comrade, colleagues, _partners_! You should at least inform me more on why Lord Weillschmidt is such a big suspect!"

Arthur dismissed Francis's whining and told him to come along so he could describe where and in what position the corpse of Lord Edelstein was found.

"_Maudit soit ce foutu Anglais!*****_" He growled under his breath.

Other fellow police officers greeted them before entering the house. It was extravagant. Before them laid perfectly polished floors made of the finest wood ever to be found. To either side of the room were swirling staircases that led to the second floor. Above them hung a chandelier with crystals shaped like tears hanging from the bottom. On the ceiling were various drawings of angels, demons, half-naked women and men as well as animals. Everything seemed to be something you would find in a prestigious art museum such as the Louvre. Covering the walls were many beautiful paintings. It surprised Francis that none of them were in a museum, the paintings really were unique.

"Lord Edelstein was quite the artist in many forms and ways." Arthur explained seeing Francis was absorbed by the art of the house itself. "He was also quite the pianist."

Francis nodded. "Anyways, I'd like a briefing of what happened."

"Right." Arthur started. They walked up the staircase on the right and took a left down a very long hall. "A month ago, on Saturday, Lord Edelstein was found dead in this room."

Arthur waved his arm to the second room on the left. In the center of the room was a beautiful black piano, it was the only furniture in the room.

_Laying against the piano, slowly raising her eyes to meet his. A forced smile passing her lips as she clutched the bleeding wound that was on her side. Sweat trickled down her beautiful face._

"_Cours******…" She whispered._

"Francis!" Arthur hissed.

Francis snapped out of his thoughts.

Arthur sighed angrily. "Would you stop zoning out and pay attention!"

The Frenchman looked out one of the series of windows in the room before shaking his head clear of the previous thoughts. "Sorry, please continue."

"Lord Edelstein was found dead against the piano." Arthur repeated. "He was beaten up and had been stabbed on his right side. The room is relatively the same as it was a month ago with the exception of the dead corpse."

"Who was the one to find him?"

"That would be Miss Hédéváry and Lord Weillschmidt." Answered Arthur taking a step towards the window, observing his fellow policemen outside.

"I assume you took pictures of the corpse?" Francis asked walking around the room.

"Of course, you'll be allowed to see them tomorrow." Arthur answered.

"Why then?"

"Because I don't have them now." That twinge of annoyance returned in Arthur's voice.

Francis smirked. Arthur was an amusing character, quick to get angry. He assumed that Arthur was one of those English men that were prejudice towards Frenchmen. Basically, Arthur was the portrait of a British stereotype. Was Francis being prejudice himself by thinking that?

"Um…excuse me, sirs." Called a feminine sounding voice from behind.

The two detectives turned around to see a cute looking maid. He wore a soft smile that, all though filled with kindness, failed to hide his grief.

"You're mister Feliciano, correct?" Arthur asked.

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><p>* I love you (familiar French)<p>

** Me too

*** Forever

**** Lili = Liechtenstein

***** Damn that English bastard

****** Run

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><p>So enjoying it? Of course you're not *emo corner*<p>

JK JK JK

not rlly Emo corner, though you are totally not enjoying it T_T

Anyways, I'll be uploading chapter 2 shortly :3


	2. Interviewing The Suspects PART I

YAY! CHAPTER 2

You: Go away T_T

LOLOLOLOLOL FML

JK, anyways, now is a good time to mention that FELI SPEAKS FLUENT FRENCH! Why? BECAUSE IN A FEW OTHER FFS I'VE READ, **HE SPEAKS FRENCH**!

NONO! I'm not yelling at you love D: I'm being very stupid right now D:

Anyways, enjoy the story :D

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><p>"You're Mister Feliciano, correct?" Asked Arthur.<p>

Feliciano kept starring at them with a smile plastered on his face that lost all of its meanings a few seconds in. A painfully, slow minute passed; Arthur was disturbed by this unusual behaviour.

"U-um…"

Before finishing his sentence, Feliciano burst into tears and jumped into the Brit's arms for comfort. Arthur, taken aback, awkwardly tried to console the Italian maid.

"There, there…men don't cry…"

Francis chuckled earning a glare from the awkward Brit. He then stepped in, "Allow me." He said to Arthur.

Reluctantly but somewhat gratefully, Arthur handed the crying Feliciano to Francis. _Based on his reputation I wouldn't normally allow him…but I am right here so he won't try anything…right?_ Arthur asked himself.

Francis pressed Feliciano tightly against his body and caressed his lower back a little too closely to his butt. "My poor angel," Francis whispered softly. "Cry out all your tears onto me so I don't see you cry again, I'll take good care of you…"

Feliciano blushed - his tears did not stop - and looked to the ground a little embarrassed. To Arthur's shock, Feliciano leaned into Francis and nuzzled his face into his chest. "You're kind like a _fratello_…" he mumbled.

"Only because I can't stand to see someone as cute as yourself shed—"

"O-okay!" Arthur stuttered separating the two. "You stay the bloody hell away from him," he glared at Francis, "And you don't go near him." He was a little gentler with Feliciano.

Feliciano didn't understand why Arthur had separated him, he rubbed his face clear of the tears and sniffled a few times.

"_Scusi_…" He mumbled.

"It's all right…" Francis smiled and tried to approach Feliciano again, but Arthur stepped in front of him and glared death at him. "Would you please take a seat?"

Feliciano nodded and sat on the bench of the black piano.

"Where are you from, Feliciano?" Francis asked in a friendly tone.

"I'm originally from Italy, but I spent a lot of my life in France and Austria." Feliciano answered, his eyes watered up at the mention of Austria.

Francis gave him some time before asking him more questions.

"So do you know German and French?" Francis asked.

"I know some French…" Feliciano confided. "But German was too complicated for me to learn…"

"How many years have you been in England?"

"Three." Feliciano's eyes started to water up again.

Francis smiled softly again. "You can cry if you want."

Feliciano shook his head but as he opened his mouth to say something, he broke into tears. He hid his face in his hands and continued to cry. Francis and Arthur did their best to console him and help him calm down but their efforts only fruited after an hour.

"You must have been pretty close to Lord Edelstein." Francis commented.

Feliciano nodded. "We were waiting for someone to come back…"

Arthur raised an eyebrow. He quickly took out a note pad and prepared to take note. "Who?" He asked.

"I…I don't remember his name…" Feliciano mumbled. "He was my friend back in Austria, but he ended up leaving Mister Roderick's house two years after I showed up. He said he would come back, and we were waiting for him to become a family again…"

"Could you describe him to us?"

Feliciano nodded again. "He had short blonde hair and really pretty blue eyes," the Italian maid started, "he always had a hard expression and he was really cute…"

Arthur hastily scribbled down everything Feliciano had said. He was a little angry with himself of not being able to take hold of this type of information before. "Is that all you remember?"

Feliciano answered yes with a small movement of the head. "I wish I could remember him a little more…"

"How good are you in French?" Francis suddenly piped up.

Feliciano jolted slightly at the random question. "Fluent."

"_Donc, si je parle Français comme ça, vous me comprenez_ ?*" Francis asked.

"_Oui_." Answered Feliciano in the same language.

"What are you gi— I mean, what are you saying?" Arthur sounded angry and annoyed.

"_Ignorez-le, je vous en prie_.**" Francis requested.

"_Pourquoi_?***"

"_Je vais vous dire quelque chose que je ne suis pas censé vous dire_.****" Francis admitted. "_Vous êtes soupçonné d'avoir tué Lord Edelstein_."

"_Pour de vrai_?*****" Feliciano asked horrified.

Francis nodded, "_Mais je sais que ce n'est pas vous_.******" Added the Frenchman. "_Si vou savez quoique ce soit d'important sur la mort de Lord Edelstein, contactez-moi, s'il-vous-plaît_."

He looked through his pocket and fished out a card indicating his whereabouts of his stay in London. The second Feliciano took the car, Arthur roughly grabbed Francis's arm and politely, but with an annoyed tone, asked Feliciano to excuse them for a moment.

Once out of the room, Arthur shoved Francis against the wall. "What the bloody hell did you say to him, frog!" Arthur hissed. "Don't bloody tell me it was just friendly chatting! I noticed that horrified look he gave you at a certain point!"

"Calm down, my British friend." Francis grinned. His tone annoyed Arthur to the core of his very being. "I have my ways of investigating like you have yours."

"That doesn't answer my bloody question!"

"It's not supposed to." Francis confirmed keeping his grin up. "Think of this as my way of getting back at you for not answering my questions regarding Lord Weillschmidt."

Arthur suddenly remembered something regarding the Weillschmidt's. "You know the person he was describing?" Arthur reminded. Francis nodded. "He just described Ludwig Weillschmidt to us."

"Are you sure?" Arthur nodded and Francis came to a conclucion. "I guess he's the next person we'll have to question."

They went back into the room where they had left Feliciano to thank him for his time and to give him their condolences. Feliciano thanked them and wished them good luck in their investigation.

"Where do you suppose Mister Ludwig is?" Asked Francis.

"Beats me. We'll have to ask around."

"Actually…" Francis intervened. "I think we're done for the day…"

Arthur stopped and glared at Francis. "What?" His tone was deadly.

Francis wasn't afraid. "It was a long train ride for the both of us, I still need to get checked in at my hotel and we have acquired some new information have we not?" Francis hurried to explain.

"That's why we should investigate Mister Ludwig THEN call it a day!"

"No thanks…" Francis announced childishly and left.

Arthur glared at the Frenchman. _I'm going to curse that annoying frog!_ "Hey! Don't walk away from me you bloody frog!" Arthur yelled and chased after Francis.

Francis laughed, "_Mon Dieu!_ You sure have a short temper!"

Nevertheless, after a few minutes of winning and convincing, Francis managed to end their day than and there.

"How about we go to a pub or something?" Francis suggested as they walked out of the mansion.

"We have work tomorrow it wouldn't be—"

"Oh come on! Lighten up a little!" Francis encouraged slapping Arthur's back in a friendly way to the Brit's annoyance. "We'll get to know each other better which will be essential for the further development of the case!"

"If you absolutely want to have us bond we can do it in a way that doesn't involve alcohol." Arthur pointed out as they entered a police car that would drive them back to London.

"Alcohol lightens the mood!" Francis retorted. "You'll be all stiff and serious just like you are now if we do it without alcohol."

The police officer, who only caught part of the conversation, looked back at Arthur for a split moment, blushed and looked away.

Arthur blushed to his turn. "Wanker! He's not talking about _doing that_!"

"Oh! Englishmen are so dirty minded!" Francis chuckled amused.

Arthur glared back at Francis for the n time that day and slapped him. "Shut up, frog! It's only natural he would assume something like that with **your** reputation!"

"What about **my** reputation?" He purred in return.

Arthur growled annoyed, folded his arms over his chest and decided to give Francis the silent treatment.

Francis laughed even more. "You're very interesting, Arthur." Francis admitted scooting closer to him.

"That's Mister Kirkland to you." Arthur corrected and moved closer to the car door.

"All right then, Mister Kirkland…" Francis continued with his purring tone as he moved even closer to the cornered man. "I've taken a liking to you."

Arthur felt his face flush. He looked at the driver embarrassedly all to find out that he was starring at them. "BLOODY FOOL! KEEP YOUR EYES ON THE ROAD!" Arthur yelled out in a fit of rage.

The driver, shocked and surprised by the outburst had lost control of the car momentarily and zigzagged across both lanes before finally gaining control again.

"You're bloody lucky there weren't any cars around!" Arthur grumbled angrily.

"So…" Francis purred again and started moving closer again.

Arthur punched him and then kicked him immediately. "Calm your damn hormones you sex craved frog!" He hissed. "I don't swing that way unlike you!"

"How rude!" Francis pouted. "And I thought Englishmen were gentlemen!"

"Not to the likes of you!"

"I'll have you know that I go both ways!" Francis stated.

"I'll have you know that I don't give a damn." Arthur hissed in return.

"Maybe you do," Francis speculated. "Maybe you're jealous of all the people, with which I hooked up, because you want the beautiful me all to yourself."

If a glare from someone could kill, Arthur's could overkill. "Drop dead, frog." Arthur took a quick glance at the driver yet again; only to find out he had resumed starring at them. "What the bloody hell have I said not long ago!"

The driver jolted but didn't lose control of the car again, "S-sorry sir…"

Francis laughed happily. He was going to have fun with Arthur.

_Her face. _

_Her beautiful face._

_Her golden locks and her smile worth more than all the things alive. She giggled softly and tilted her head slightly to the side. Her eyes fluttered open revealing the purest form of the colour blue._

"_Francis…"_

"Francis…"

Francis blinked quickly a few times. "U-uh?"

"Maybe it was a good idea to end the day there." Arthur mumbled. "You're zoning out too much. If you can't concentrate properly no progress can be made."

_Her images turned to dust._

"Sorry…" Francis mumbled and starred out the window.

The Frenchman's gay behaviour of not long ago had vanished in an instance, his aura was now grim.

"Is everything all right…?" Arthur asked slightly concerned.

"Hun? Yea…" Francis mumbled leaning his head against his hand. "I just need to take my medicine soon…I forgot to take it when we were on the train…"

"Medicine for what?"

"Head aches…" _Heart aches_… Francis corrected himself mentally. He continued to gaze out the window, her name being the only thing on his mind._ Jeanne._

The case had only started, but from the little information he had gathered on how the crime went down and his thoughts of the other details, it would be a constant reminder of the things Francis was desperately trying to forget for four years now. This case would be special.

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><p>* So if I speak to you in French like this, you'd understand me?<p>

** Please ignore him.

***Why?

****I'm going to tell you something I'm not supposed to tell you. You're suspected of killing Lord Edelstein.

***** For real?

****** But I know it's not you. If you know anything about Lord Edelstein's death, please, contact me.

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><p>I LIKE PUTTING FRENCH STUFF IN MY STORIES BECAUSE I AM A BIPOLAR (not rlly) FRENCHIE WHO IS SOMTIMES PROUD (rlly) OF BEING FREEENCH!<p>

I should go die now

You: ARY! Y U SO DEPRESSING!

Well fellow readers U_U I'm simply being retarded

I'm already done writting chapter 3 and 4 but I need to go over them to correct a few things and re-arrange the text and such

DEAR FOLLOWERS: NO I AM NOT STOPPING THE PROCCESS OF WORLD WAR III (Yay Roman Numerals!) ! I'M WRITTING BOTH OF THESE STORIES AT THE SAME TIME BECAUSE I'M AWESOME SAUCE LIKE THAT!

Warning: Next chapter, there's sex 8D YAY


	3. An Interresting Night

OMG! I DIDN'T WANT TO POST THIS CHAPTER NOW BUT I DIDN'T HAVE THE CHOICE!

Person who wrote the review that went like: 'You made mistakes with your french but I won't tell you cause I dont wanna be a killjoy' I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU IF YOU DON'T TELL ME WHAT'S WRONG! Dx I'm sorry if I scared you U_U I didn't mean to sound so violent.

Confession IV: Even though French is my first language, I fail at writting it T_T"

So you see person who wrote that review, you have no idea how much you're helping me with my french by correcting me ;p So if you're following my story and have read this, thanks and please tell me how I fucked up my french, yet again xD

Confession V: I'm pressuring my parents to send me to France so I can better my French

Enjoy this smutt filled Chapter ;p

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><p>Arthur accompanied Francis to check in his hotel, <em>The Midday Moon<em>. The Brit had been very surprised to know that Francis could afford staying in such a luxurious place, especially since he didn't know when he was going to leave. It could be in a month, six months, or even a year.

"My parents were wealthy…" Francis confessed.

Arthur nodded. "What did they do?"

Francis froze for a moment. "I don't know, they were never at home." He answered smiling sadly.

"I'm sorry…" Arthur mumbled feeling that he came upon a taboo subject.

"Don't be." France insisted. "It's not your fault that they were never home, am I right?"

Arthur smiled a little for a brief moment and nodded. He whispered a yea and the conversation ended there.

He accompanied Francis to his suite, which happened to be the royal suite. Arthur had to admit that it surprised him a little, even if he did book the best hotel in London, he couldn't imagine how many pounds it cost.

"More than you'll make in ten lifetimes of pure luxury." Francis answered Arthur's question in a snobby tone.

"Shut up! T-that doesn't answer my question!" Arthur retorted, feeling insanely insulted.

"My dear Arthur—"

"Mister Kirkland!" He corrected annoyed.

"If you ask for the price," Francis continued dismissing Arthur's correction, "It's because you can't afford it."

"Bloody frog…" He hissed under his breath.

Francis's room was amazing. It was as large as a common house, there was the best furniture available anywhere in the world and the view was astonishing. The best of London could be spotted out of that giant window.

Francis jumped on his king size bed and snuggled it. "How comfortable…" He sighed amusingly.

Arthur starred at the bed wondering if it actually was all that comfortable.

Francis sat up and patted next to him. "Come," The Frenchman invited, "I doubt you'll ever be granted another chance to experience luxury like this with your salary."

Arthur glared, "Sod off, frog! I'm being paid the same as you for this job."

"Now that's where you're wrong, _mon ami*._" Francis replied tauntingly.

Nevertheless, Arthur took the offered seat next to Francis. He was visibly surprised by the comfort he felt from just sitting on the bed. He could compare it to sitting on a cloud. Just as he was starting to enjoy himself, Arthur was pushed against the bed.

"Y-you eedjit! Get off!" Arthur shrieked as Francis crawled over him and pinned him against the bed.

The Frenchman leaned into Arthur's face, their lips almost touching. "When will you stop denying yourself…_trésor*_*…" He purred.

"A-aah…" Arthur breath. "STOP IT, YOU BLOODY PERVERT!"

Arthur mustered up spontaneous strength and pushed Francis off himself. He quickly ran from the bed, heading for the door. "I can't believe I was going to go to a pub with you! Who knows what you would have tried!"

"Arthur?" Francis called in a singsong tone.

Arthur looked back, "What!" he snapped.

Francis waved Arthur's wallet in the air. Arthur quickly searched his pockets out of instinct to make sure it was actually his, only to find out that it was. More than anything, he wanted to kill Francis at the given moment. "Give. It. Back." The Brit hissed.

"First you have to come to a pub with me like you promised." Francis instructed.

"Not after you assaulted me!" Arthur snapped.

"Than I guess you won't be getting your wallet back…" Francis concluded using the same singsong tone as before.

"F-fine!" Arthur said walking away, doing his best to convince himself he didn't care. "Keep it!"

"Oh look! A phone number…" Francis peeked at Arthur to see he had frozen stiff. "…titled M-O-T-H-E-R…"

"_The Winchester_***, hun?" Francis asked as he and Arthur entered the pub.

"Yea, if you ever try anything bizarre there'll be a bunch of people here to beat you." Arthur stated. Francis laughed. "I'm serious."

Francis stopped laughing.

There were many people in the pub, a few times Francis was almost separated from Arthur, which might have been his goal, but he still managed to stay with him until they reached the bar.

"Name's William****," Greeted the bartender in a thick Scottish accent. "What can I get ye?"

"The strongest thing you've got." Demanded Arthur.

"Red wine for me." Francis politely requested.

Arthur looked at Francis questionably. "You come to pub and all you want is wine?"

"As you see, it so happens to be the case." Francis said as a he was poured a glass of wine. He then addressed William. "What type is it?"

"I thought ye might enjoy a _Fat-Bastard*****_." William answered putting the bottle away and getting to work on making Arthur's drink.

Francis inspected his wine and shook the liquid gently before taking his first sip. "I guess it'll do." He concluded using a snobby tone that annoyed Arthur a lot more than his normal tone.

"Aye, so what be ye names?" William asked, pouring vodka in some fruit juice, which had already been mixed with a variety of other alcoholic beverages.

"Arthur Kirkland." Arthur sighed observing his drink-in-the-making.

William's gaze turned to Francis. "Francis Bonnefoy." The Frenchman answered in French hinting to his origin, if his accent had not already been enough.

William blinked a few times. "Like…**the** Detective Francis Bonnefoy?"

Francis nodded pretending to ignore Arthur's glare but a smirk betraying him. "How come you know about him and not me?" Arthur pouted.

"So you are jealous!"

"Am not!"

"And what famous character would ye be?" William asked finally passing Arthur his drink.

Arthur quickly swallowed his drink in few gulps, "Detective Arthur Kirkland," He presented, his voice already sounding drowsy. "The best bloody detective in England!"

In the following hours they spent in the pub, Arthur ordered one drink after the other quickly getting drunk. He had yelled at a few other customers in the pub for no apparent reason and had been separated from various fights by William, all started by Arthur himself. Francis, on the other hand, had asked for a bottle of wine after the other, but was drinking slowly to savour the taste. He had only gotten somewhat drunk.

"Hey Will," Francis called, his voice drowsy as well. He inspected the new wine William had given him. "What's this wine you gave me? Seems…familiar…"

"That? Well it's—"

_She had bent down to smell one of the many white flowers growing in the bush. Francis had smiled softly and picked a flower only to place it in her beautiful golden hair._

"_Elle te va bien.*__****" He complemented._

_For some reason, he couldn't make out the features of her face even if he was so close to her. He wondered why, but dismissed it._

_She had giggled and thanked him. "Ah, oui." Jeanne said remembering something. She fished through the picnic basket she was holding and pulled out a bottle of wine. "J'ai choisi ton vin préféré*******…"_

"Francis?" William asked shaking him roughly.

Francis snapped out of it, "Whaa?"

The Scotsman smiled, "Seems to me like ye and your chum," William paused and looked at Arthur who was mumbling a song under his breath as he played with an empty cup. "Are done for the night."

"Pub, pub, pub and go!" Arthur sang; an arm around Francis's shoulder, whilst he hugged him, as they walked back to the _Midday Moon_. "Fish and chips! All the people I hate, I curse you! Especially you Francis!"

"Why me?" Francis feeling oddly hurt by Arthur's words, he hugged him tighter.

"Because you tried to bloody fuck mmmmeeee!" Arthur continued, still singing. "All hail the queen!"

"You would have enjoyed it." Francis insisted nuzzling his head in the crook of Arthur's neck, he felt as if he needed to cry. He had consumed too much alcohol, though compared to Arthur…

"I know I would have," Arthur confessed, his voice cracking do to the high note he tried to hit. "I've secretly been interested in yoooouuuu!"

"Than we should have sex!" Francis concluded, his urge to cry disapearing.

"We really shooouullldd!"

The door to royal suite burst open and in came the Frenchman and the Brit kissing fiercely. Arthur's arms were tightly wrapped around Francis's neck and his were holding Arthur's back. They closed the door behind them noisily as they tried to make it to the bed without falling or separating themselves. Arthur fell back on the bed pulling Francis over himself. Francis proceeded to taking off Arthur's pants, as their kissed deepened. He unbuttoned the pants, almost ripping it apart and yanked them down Arthur's ankles.

Arthur stopped hugging Francis to remove his clothes as well. He opened the other's suit and slipped it off. Once that was done, Francis pulled off Arthur's underpants slipping them down to his ankles as well. The Brit broke the kiss shortly as he gasped.

"Mmm…Bonnefoy…" Arthur moaned in the kiss. Francis held himself back for a moment to hear half-heartedly what his uke wanted to say. Arthur wiggled his hips. "I…I need…"

Francis didn't need a map to be drawn for him to understand what Arthur wanted. He quickly seized his erection and started to relieve him.

Arthur's face was abnormally flush, let it be from the alcohol he had consumed or the results of the sexual pleasure he was feeling. He arched his back as he moaned beautifully.

_Her cheeks were flushed lightly, enhancing her beauty. She let out a soft moan of pleasure, not lust. She never lust, only loved._

Strange.

Who was this woman Francis was thinking about?

_She wrapped her slender legs around his waist playfully, her petit fingers tangled into Francis's blond hair. They exchanged a series of short, yet meaningful kisses as they gazed into each other's eyes._

Francis stopped all of his movements for a split second in which he shook his head to clear his mind from the woman he had thought of. He then continued to pleasure Arthur thinking of him, and only him.

With a hand, he pumped the pre-cum leaking length, with the other; he toyed with Arthur's balls in a pleasurable matter. Arthur squeaked cutely and gripped Francis's shoulders. Soon enough he was moaning his name in a failed attempt to warn Francis that he was about to climax. Francis made him cum with a lustful and long moan.

Arthur fell back against the bed, drunk with sexual pleasure and arising desires. He gave Francis one of the most lustful looks ever to be seen, and who was Francis to not fall for its charm?

Before venturing any further, the blonde Frenchman took off Arthur's tie and the upper part of his suit leaving him completely naked. Francis smirked enjoying his view. He leaned down and kissed Arthur's neck, sucking on a sensitive piece of flesh where he left his mark. He trailed kisses down Arthur's neck and played with one of the Brit's hard nipples. Arthur mewled and moaned encouragingly as he passed his fingers through Francis's perfect blonde hair.

"More…" Arthur begged lustfully. "I need more…"

Francis stopped teasing Arthur's body and showed him three fingers that he pushed into his mouth.

"Suck." Ordered Francis, his lips curing into a smile. "The more saliva, the less it hurts."

Without another word, Arthur did as he was told. He sucked on the digits and coated them with as much saliva as he could. When Francis deemed Arthur's work to be satisfying, he pulled out his fingers and trailed them down to his entrance.

Arthur whimpered moving his hips around; all he wanted was to be penetrated, to feel the pleasure of sex. Teasingly slow, Francis entered the first two fingers in Arthur who had moaned in slight pain. Francis moved his fingers in and out of the Brit so that he could get used to the feeling, when he had; the Frenchman added the last finger and repeated the treatment. Finally, when Arthur was used to all three fingers and Francis pulled them out completely, then unbuttoned his own pants to release his locked in hard on.

Francis placed himself comfortably between Arthur's legs and pocked his dick at Arthur's entrance.

"F-Francis…" The drunken man wined.

With a swift thrust, Francis entered Arthur completely having him scream in short lived pain. The following thrusts were nothing but pleasurable to Arthur.

Morning arrived slowly and steadily.

However, it had been too quickly for Arthur who now had a massive headache and felt nauseas.

_What happened last night…?_ He wondered holding his head as he tried to get used to the pain. _Some Scottish person named William…Strong alcohol…Sex with Francis…_

Every fibber in Arthur's body froze.

_Sex…with Francis?_

He shut his eyes tightly and covered them with his hands.

_No…That's impossible…_

Peeking through his hands, he looked to his left hoping to see no one there but, to his dismay, there slept Francis. Arthur felt his heart drop and his face flush; he was a disgrace.

Francis moaned lightly and tightened the grip he had around Arthur's naked waist, which the other hadn't notice until then. Arthur froze again but screamed after registering his position and the situation before him. His scream shook all the walls of the large and luxurious hotel and woke up Francis.

"W-what?" He mumbled still half asleep.

"You bloody perverted frog!" Arthur yelled pulling the covers to his chest and moving away from Francis. "You got me fucking drunk last night didn't you!"

Francis appeared confused for a moment but caught on to the situation faster than Arthur had realised it. "No I didn't." Francis conquered shaking his head. "You got yourself drunk by ordering all those drinks."

"Shut up!" Arthur yelled hiding his face in his knees. "It's your entire bloody fault…stupid frog…"

Francis smiled and moved closer to Arthur. When close enough, he kissed him on the head gently. "You know last night you confessed your love to me." Francis stated.

Arthur's face was as red as a tomato. He starred deep into Francis's eyes looking for any hint that would indicate the contrary but didn't find one. "You're bloody lying!" He cried hiding his face again. "I hate you! You're stupid! If it weren't for this case I would have killed you by now!"

Francis chuckled and got out of bed. He walked over to his suitcases and looked for some clothes. Arthur had peeked at Francis.

"What are you doing?" Francis purred, not looking back at Arthur,

Arthur jolted violently. "I-I…nothing!"

"Then how about getting dressed?" Francis suggested. "We do have more suspects to interview today."

* * *

><p>* My friend<p>

**Treasure, it's a French pet name.

*** I hope some knows from what movie that pub is mentioned

****William is Scotland; I gave him that name since he seems to have no official one

***** I don't know since when the French started making Fat-Bastards, but if it wasn't all that long ago please bare with me XD By the way, so far, Fat-Bastard is my favourite wine

******It looks nice on you

*******I chose your favourite wine

Confession VII: The only French wine I remember is Fat-Bastard D:

* * *

><p>And so concludes chapter 3 of Detective Bonnefoy U_U<p>

You may have noticed that there are less and less details about Jeanne in France's random flashbacks, this is wanted xD It's to show that France is forgetting things about Jeanne  
>though it's not rlly kicking in at the moment xD<p>

Anyways, I'm going to have written and corrected chapter 5 and written chapter 6 before I post chapter 4 so you're in for a wait of about a week or two xD

HAVE FUN WAITING!


	4. Interviewing The Suspects PART II

WATCHING SHUTTER ISLAND!

Confession VIII: I'm not sure I'm actually this far in my confessions

Confession IX: Shutter Island was one of the movies that inspired me to write this (mainly the relationship and tragedy between Francis and Jeanne)

Confession X: I love Leonardo Dicaprio

ANYWAYS I don't have much to say about this chapter so enjoy 3

* * *

><p>Francis had given some clothes for Arthur to borrow; they were a little big on him, which was cute in Francis's opinion, but were better than nothing according to Arthur. They had then proceeded to take a taxi back to Lord Edelstein's mansion where they planned to interview Lady Hédéváry and Lord Weillschmidt and ask them if they knew the whereabouts of Mister Ludwig.<p>

The amount of police officers around the residence had not changed; to Francis, it seemed as if there were more. Again, they were greeted by them and directed to Lady Hédéváry.

Dressed in a gorgeous, light green dress that complemented her teary, green eyes, she sat in the bedroom she shared with her late fiancé. By the looks of how devastated and upset she was, it was clear to Francis that she was not the murderer either. Nevertheless, Arthur was hard headed and thought that she had the potential to have murdered her fiancé, and so found himself in a position where interviewing was not an option.

"Greetings Lady Hédéváry." Francis saluted extending his hand in order to receive hers.

She sobbingly gave her his hand to kiss. "Who am I addressing?" She asked, her voice shaking with grief.

"Detective Bonnefoy." He answered softly. He sat on the bed next to her and passed an arm around her shoulder earning a disapproval glare from Arthur. "I need to ask you a few questions regarding the tragic incident, all right?"

Lady Hédéváry nodded, "Go ahead."

"Where were you at the time of the crime?" Francis started as Arthur took out his note pad and got ready to write if need be.

"I was in the kitchen preparing food with Feli for Roderick." Lady Hédéváry told them, "We were listening to him playing the piano at the same time… And just when we finished making gelato we heard a scream and then a loud thud."

Lady Hédéváry paused, trying to control herself and stop the tears from coming.

"I know it's hard." Arthur said softly. "But this is very essential to the investigation. We need you to go on."

She nodded and swallowed her tears. "We ran upstairs to see him," She continued, "The piano had stopped so we knew something had happened to him…w-when we found him…he…"

Lady Hédéváry couldn't keep it in anymore, she burst into tears and hid her face in Francis's chest. He wrapped his arms around her gently and did his best to have her calm down.

"He was already dead…" Lady Hédéváry whispered, "There was a thin line of blood coming from his mouth, his right side was stained with blood too…around him…more blood…so much blood…"

Lady Hédéváry's shakings became violent, she clutched to Francis's chest, digging her nails into him in an almost painful way as she muttered the word 'blood' over and over again. Just then, Feliciano and Lord Weillschmidt entered the room, the Italian maid carrying some pills and a glass of water.

Lord Weillschmidt separated Francis and Lady Hédéváry in a rude way mumbling an excuse of the sort before turning all of his attention to Lady Hédéváry.

"What the bloody hell is this?" Arthur hissed. "We're in the middle of an interview!"

"_Scusi_*, but it's time for Elizaveta to take her pills…" Feliciano explained quickly handing the pills to Lord Weillschmidt.

"Elizaveta, love?" Lord Weillschmidt spoke softly and lovingly, "You need to take these pills, okay?"

Lady Hédéváry looked at him emptily. Both Arthur and Francis understood that those were anti-depression pills.

The Hungarian aristocrat took the pills without complain as well as the offered glass of water. She swallowed her pills with the help of the water and gave the glass back to Feliciano. Lord Weillschmidt rubbed Lady Hédéváry's arm gently and rested his hand over hers.

"Feeling better?" He asked.

She nodded and gave him a weak smile. "Leave us."

Without another word, Lord Weillschmidt and Feliciano left the room.

"We'd like to have a word with you after wards, Mister Vargas." Called Arthur.

Feliciano nodded and closed the door.

"What happened after you found Lord Edelstein?" Francis asked.

Lady Hédéváry remained quiet for a moment. "I fell to my knees and screamed…" She confessed. "Feli tried to calm me down but it didn't work…After Gilbert came to see what was going on and he pulled me from the room…I fought against him because I didn't want to leave Roderick…"

"Where was Lord Weillschmidt at the time?" Arthur asked.

"Somewhere in the mansion…" She answered. "I thought he had been with Roderick but since he came to see us I guess he wasn't…I wish he had been, than he could have protected Roderick…"

Arthur took a quick note of what Lady Hédéváry had just said before Francis continued to question her. "What did you do after?"

"We called the police…" She answered. "They said to grab a weapon in case the murderer was still around to protect ourselves the time they'd arrive…it's also why they're staying now."

Arthur nodded. "Pardon me for asking such a question but, did you have a fight with Lord Edelstein around the time of the incident?" The Frenchman asked feeling a little bad for doing so.

Lady Hédéváry shook her head. "We had never gotten into a fight," She confessed, "not even as kids."

"Had he ever wrong you?" Francis continued to ask, the feeling of being a horrible person increasing. It was so obvious that she was deeply in love with Lord Edelstein.

"Never." Lady Hédéváry answered; the look in her eyes proved the truth in her words.

Francis laid a hand on her shoulder. "Our sincere condolences, Lady Hédéváry." He said. "We'll do everything we can to bring the murderer to justice."

"Thank you."

Arthur and Francis left the room to find Feliciano waiting for them next to the door.

"She really loved him…" He said starring at the floor. "Everyone did, he was such a good person…"

"I'm glad you waited for us." Arthur thanked. "I wanted to ask you about Lady Hédéváry's condition."

"The pills?" Feliciano asked earning a nodded. "The doctors wanted to put me on them too, but I don't want to. They make you forget."

"Forget?" Francis repeated.

"_Dorénavant, vous prendriez deux de ces pilules le matin, l'__après-midi et le soir.**" __The doctor instructed, handing a big container of pills to Francis. "Sinon, votre situation s'aggravera."_

_Francis starred at the container; there was no label on it. __"Rien ne fera disparaître mon chagrin…***" Francis concluded handing the container back to the doctor._

_The doctor pushed it back to him. __"Ce n'est pas pour enlever votre chagrin,****" he explained. "C'est pour que vous l'oubliez…"_

"Elizaveta was so depressed that anti-depressants didn't work at all," Feliciano confessed. "So the doctors gave her those pills to help her. They're not necessarily legal…"

"Why would you tell us that they're not legal?" Arthur asked sceptical, "We have the authority to confiscate it."

"If you take the pills away, chances are Elizaveta will kill herself." Feliciano uttered coldly.

Arthur knew that he wouldn't take the pills away no matter the cost, he had been curious on how bad Lady Hédéváry's depression was. The Brit moved to another matter that bothered him. "At the time of the incident, where was Lord Weillschmidt?"

"He followed Mister Roderick to the piano room…" Feliciano admitted just like Lady Hédéváry had, but in more detail. "He must have left before, seeing that he came in the room after we found him…"

Feliciano's eyes watered up thinking of the horrible scene he witnessed.

"Would you know where Lord Weillschmidt is at this time?" Francis asked.

Feliciano shook his head. "He's always walking around worrying about Elizaveta." He answered. "Most of the time he passes in front of the piano room."

Arthur and Francis thanked Feliciano for his cooperation and left in search for Lord Weillschmidt. Once they had interviewed they albino, they would seek out Mister Ludwig and question him about what Feliciano had mentioned the other day.

The detectives arrived at the piano room to find no one there. Arthur wanted to walk around the house in the hopes of finding Lord Weillschmidt but Francis managed to convince him to wait a little and that he would come to them on his own.

Francis took out a plastic bag containing two big, white pills. He opened the bag and swallowed both of them in one shot.  
>"What are those?" Arthur asked impressed, he couldn't even swallow one pill without the help of water.<p>

"The pills I told you about yesterday." Francis reminded.

"The ones for the head aches?"

Francis nodded; he put the empty plastic bag back in the hidden pocket it had been resting in.

"They seemed a little big…" Arthur pointed out.

"Maybe." Francis shrugged.

After waiting five minutes, what Francis had suggested would happen, happened.

Lord Weillschmidt walked in front of the piano room and stopped when spotting the detectives inside.

"A word with you, Lord Weillschmidt?" Francis asked gesturing the man to come to them.

Without a step of hesitation, Lord Weillschmidt complied and came to see them. "How can I assist you?" He asked politely.

"We'd like to ask you a few questions." Francis explained.

"More questions?" Lord Weillschmidt sounded annoyed more then angry. "I've answered every question you had I don't know how many times, isn't it enough? Can't you find the culprit now?"

"Sure." Francis answered. "After you answer **my** questions."

Lord Weillschmidt shot a dirty look at Francis before smirking. "You've got balls talking to me like that."

"Thank you." Francis smirked.

_Fire._

_A silhouette running away._

"_Cours…"_

Francis shook his head. "Say, haven't I seen you before?" he asked.

Lord Weillschmidt shrugged. "Maybe, I've made the news quite a few times." He admitted.

Francis shook his head. "No, somewhere else…" Francis insisted digging in his dying memory for clues. "Maybe in France?"

Lord Weillschmidt shook his head. "Truth be told, I've never been to France before…"

"Oh…" Francis mumbled. "Then pardon me, I must be mistaking you with someone else."

"It's all right." Lord Weillschmidt reassured.

"Anyways," Arthur finally interrupted. "Where were you the day the incident happened?"

"I had left to go down town for Elizaveta," Lord Weillschmidt started. "Elizaveta wanted me to get her some ingredients for her and Feli. When I came back, they told me to leave, that they were the only ones allowed in the kitchen when they were cooking. I followed Roderick up to the piano room where he started to play wonderful melodies."

Lord Weillschmidt had paused and starred at the piano as if remembering the music it had made when Lord Edelstein had played it. "After?" Francis asked.

"Right, sorry about that," Lord Weillschmidt apologized rubbing the back of his head. "We talked for a little and then I left to go to my room. The next thing I knew, there was no more piano music, screams and Roderick, dead."

"Did you have a fight with him then?" Francis asked.

Lord Weillschmidt shook his head. "No, I just went to my room to go check my schedule." He admitted. "Believe it or not, I was having business conferences as I was staying here, waiting for the big day. I was going to go back to him right away…but then…"

Arthur nodded. "Yes we know."

"It's horrible and so hard to believe." Lord Weillschmidt sighed. "Who would do such a thing to…well anyone?"

"It's then you wonder what the human race has come to." Arthur agreed.

"_Ja_…"

"Lord Weillschmidt," Francis started, "Would you know where your brother, Mister Ludwig, might be?"

Lord Weillschmidt froze. "_Mein bruder_? What do you want with him?" His tone was icy and suspicious.

Arthur noted down the reaction.

"We just need to ask him questions." Francis reassured.

"You don't need to." Lord Weillschmidt glared. "He has nothing to do with this."

"We'll be the ones to judge that." Francis replied. "Now will you cooperate and tell us what we want to know, or not?"

Lord Weillschmidt didn't answer. He turned his heels and left the room.

"Obviously, something's up with the brother."

* * *

><p>*Sorry in Italian<p>

**From now on you'll be taking two of these pills in the morning, afternoon and night. Or else your situation will get worse.

*** Nothing will rid me of my sorrow

**** It's not to get rid of your sorrow, it's so you forget her

* * *

><p>Confession XI: I really need to go pee right now but I'm going to wait until I'm done writting this so I'm gunna make it short<p>

Confession XII: My favourite scene from Shutter Island shall be put in chapter 6 or 7 depending how everything goes

Anyways, chapter 5 is written, I'm going to start chapter 6. When I'm done chapter 6 I'm going to correct chapter 5 and 6 and post 5. I'll post 6 when I'll write 7 SO SEE YOU NEXT CHAPTER!

I RLLY NEED TO PEE NOW!


	5. Good Day, Mister Ludwig

OMG Forever later, I post this chapter xD

I didn't review it a second time so there is bound to be a shit load of mistakes and such but whatever xP I'M COUNTING ON MY FRENCH CORRECTOR TO CORRECT MY FRENCH! If...I put any in it xD

Anyways, I'm getting to work on chapter 6 so enjoy!

* * *

><p>"If Lord Weillschmidt won't tell us where his brother is," Francis started, "Do you suppose Lady Hédéváry knows?"<p>

Arthur shrugged. "Probably, if anyone else should it'd be her."

The two detectives went back to find Lady Hédéváry in order to find Mister Ludwig. Francis would have a lot of questions to ask Mister Ludwig if he happened to be the person Feliciano, Lady Hédéváry and Lord Edelstein were waiting for. This would give him a whole knew status, he wouldn't just be suspected of being an accomplice, but of having committed the murder himself.

Lady Hédéváry was still in her room. Her tears had stopped but her grief was still present. Sitting next to her was Feliciano who was placing a pink flower in her hair as he was talking to her gently.

"Sorry to intrude again," Arthur said as he entered the room, the doors already opened. "We'd just like to know if you knew where Mister Ludwig resided at the current moment."

"I'm sorry…" Lady Hédéváry apologised. She was starring at the floor, her gazer empty, "But I don't know where he is…"

"I do." Feliciano said quickly, "I asked him to get us some food and ingredients for diner."

"Will he be back soon?" Arthur asked.

Feliciano nodded. "Any second now, I sent him a while ago."

"Thank you."

Arthur and Francis left to go look around the house to make sure Mister Ludwig had not comeback whilst they were talking with Lady Hédéváry and Feliciano. As they looked through the mansion, they found Mister Ludwig placing the grocery bags on the counter.

"Mister Ludwig?" Francis called as he approached the German man. He was more buff than in that photograph he had seen, "I'm Detective Bonnefoy and this is Detective Kirkland, we'd like to ask you questions."

Mister Ludwig nodded, "It's about the murder isn't it?"

"Of the sort…" Francis admitted, "It's more about what we learned from the maid, Feliciano."

Mister Ludwig blushed violently. "W-what exactly did he t-tell you…?" He stuttered visibly embarrassed.

Francis chuckled. "I assure you it's nothing like that." Francis reassured. "It wouldn't be of any importance to us, now would it?"

Mister Ludwig nodded. "T-that's true…"

"Anyways, how long have you known Feliciano?" Arthur asked.

Mister Ludwig remained silent for a moment. He pondered why this information would be of interest to them. "Two years ago, I think…" Ludwig answered. "To be honest, it feels like I've known him for longer…"

"Is it because you feel very compatible with him?" Francis asked to his turn.

The blonde German shook his head. "There's nothing compatible between us. He's loud, energetic yet lazy. He's a great cook but makes a mess when he does cook…" He caught himself in his early ranting and stopped. "B-but…it feels like I've already experienced this with him before…As if I've known him beyond those two years…"

Arthur was puzzled by what Mister Ludwig was saying, all though Francis seemed to have made himself a theory.

"Mister Ludwig," He asked, "Have you ever been through an accident of the sort?"

"What are you—"

"I have." Ludwig answered. "When I was young, my brother and I went to visit Roderick often. One time, I fell out of the window on the third floor of his home. I don't remember what I was trying to do but it landed me in a comma for two months and made me forget things permanently."

"How much have you forgotten?" Francis continued.

Ludwig stayed pensive for a moment. "All of my childhood…" He admitted.

Arthur noted down everything Ludwig had said. "Would you have any ill will towards Lord Edelstein for what happened?" He asked.

Ludwig shook his head. "It wasn't his fault I fell out the window."

"How about for something that happened not long ago?" Arthur asked.

Ludwig shook his head again, "The only thing that bothered me was how he'd get lost in town sometimes and I'd have to find him and bring him home." Ludwig explained, he smirked. "But it was always sort of funny."

"Mister Ludwig, where were you the day the murder happened?" Francis inquired, folding his arms over his chest.

"I was out shopping for a wedding gift on the half of my brother and I." Ludwig answered. "We wanted to get them a _Black Forest Cuckoo Clock_*, so I went _to Clocks of the World_**. When I finally got back to the mansion everything had happened and there were police cars everywhere…"

"Apparently the owned of that shop admitted he was there." Arthur whispered to Francis quickly.

"If you had to say it was someone, who would it be?" Francis asked.

The German thought for a moment. "I don't like pointing fingers…" Ludwig started. "So I don't think it's anyone who loved Roderick and was his friend. I'd say it was someone who hated him."

"For example, Lord Zwingli?" Francis suggested.

"Perhaps." Ludwig admitted.

"Thank you for—"

"_Bruder!_" Lord Weillschmidt yelled stomping in the kitchen. "What are you doing talking with them! What did they ask you?"

Arthur quickly noted down Lord Weillschmidt's suspicious outburst and stuffed his note pad into his pocket.

"_Bitte beruhigen_!***" Ludwig pleaded. "It was just the routine questions."

"They didn't ask you anything else?" Lord Weillschmidt inquired.

"Well they did ask me about my childhood but—"

"_Missgeburt_!****" Weillschmidt hissed glaring at both detectives. "You have no reason to ask him about that!"

"_Bruder_ c—"

"Come!" Lord Weillschmidt hissed dragging his brother away from the detectives. "If I catch you talking with my _bruder_ again, I'll sue you!"

Arthur and Francis exchanged glances.

"Better not question him anymore…" Francis suggested.

"Why do you care?" Arthur asked. "You're bloody wealthy!"

"Money is still an object, my friend." Francis concluded walking away.

"This coming from the guy who said 'if you ask for the price you can't afford it'!" Arthur mumbled angrily and followed Francis out of the mansion.

They had accomplished their goals for the day. On their way back to _the Midday Moon_, Francis invited Arthur to go out to dinner with him where they could discuss about the interviews. Obviously, Arthur refused flatly.

"I still have this." Francis pointed out waving Arthur's wallet around.

"Bloody frog! Give it back!" Arthur yelled tackling Francis who fell over, hitting his head against the car door.

_A warm smiles._

_White flowers._

"_Je t'aime…"_

"_Et moi de même…*****"_

_A passionate kissed shared. _

_Who was this woman Francis remembered kissing? This blonde woman with a warm smile that he seemed to adore more than God or anything in the world? He knew her name, but he couldn't remember it. He used it a few times but could never remember what it was._

"_Ne me quitte pas.******"_

Francis snapped out of it quickly, just in time to move his hand away when Arthur tried to grab his wallet.

"Why do you do this to me!" Arthur wined.

"Because…" Francis paused curious on that woman that was occupying his thoughts. "You wouldn't go out with me…"

"Of course!" Arthur cried desperately trying to grab his wallet. "I don't like you! I wouldn't go out with you if I could choose myself!"

"Anyways," Francis said pushing Arthur off of him. "I asked one of the check in persons a restaurant they recommended and they said _Rainsalot_*******. I was thinking we could go there."

"T-that's so expensive!" Arthur pointed out as he tried to get his wallet back.

Francis moved the wallet out of the Brit's reach and slipped it in his pants quickly. Arthur glared at Francis and moved back to his seat, pouting.

"You know you can take it, I won't stop you." Francis purred.  
>"I'M NOT PUTTING MY HANDS DOWN YOUR PANTS!"<p>

Francis had reserved a table in the private section of the restaurant where most people quietly discussed business. He ordered the finest red wine of France for the both of them as they began to discuss the peculiar actions of Lord Weillschmidt.

"I think Mister Ludwig is hiding something from us." Arthur started sipping at the wine.

"Maybe, but what if Lord Weillschmidt just has a brother complex?" Francis suggested.

Arthur smirked. "Ha! That'll be the day!" Arthur laughed sipping on his wine some more. "Either he's trying to hide something that Mister Ludwig supposedly knows or Mister Ludwig is the culprit."

A waitress entered their room and placed plates of salad in front of them. They thanked the woman and waited until she closed the door behind her before continuing their conversation.

"Do you think it has something to do with the story Feliciano told us?" Arthur asked poking the tomatoes.

"Not sure." Francis admitted. "Mister Ludwig doesn't remember anything from his childhood because of his incident, so if there ever was a clue from that long ago, we couldn't find it."

"Then that settles it." Arthur concluded taking a bit of his appetizer. "The story Feliciano told us was irrelevant to the current matter at hand."

"Speaking of Feliciano," Francis continued, he had almost finished his salad. "I really don't think that he's our guy, same thing for Mister Ludwig. If the owner of that clock shop really did see him there while the crime was occurring then it can't be him."

Arthur took a few bites of his salad. "I agree…We should concentrate on suspects that are more capable of murder." Arthur suggested, he placed his fork next to his plate. "And so I believe that Lady Hédéváry should still be suspected."

"Are you serious?" Francis asked dropping his hands on the table in a disappointed matter.

"I'll have you know that most crimes are committed by people who are close to the victim." Arthur explained. "The wife murdering the husband is a classic. For all we know she could be faking those tears…"

"Would you risk taking the pills away to find out?" Francis asked giving Arthur a hard look.

"Look, if one of us suspects someone we can't rule them out!" Arthur hissed. "Lord Weillschmidt is the most suspicious of all so far seeing that he over our questioning Mister Ludwig."

Francis nodded and finished his glass of wine. "Yes, but we can't concentrate everything on him," Francis pointed out. "We still have to interview the Switzerland siblings."

"True," Arthur agreed. "I almost forgot about them."

Francis smirked. "Me too."

"We'll go interview them once we're done dinner." Arthur concluded finally finishing his salad.

"Nay," The Frenchman disagreed. "I want to do something else."

* * *

><p>*Apparently a Black Forrest Cuckoo Clock is a traditional German wedding gift…I thought it was 'unique' XD<p>

**It doesn't exist but it's a kickass name for a shop ;p

*** Calm down please; in German (correct me if I'm wrong)

**** Bastard in German (correct me if I'm wrong)

***** And I as well.

******Don't leave me

*******Does anyone get it? xD It's the dumbest joke ever but my friend helped me with it xD

* * *

><p>And so chapter 5 is complete U_U Now you have to wait for me to finish writting chapter 6. I'll do my best to stay serious with this story but I promise nothing since my priority is WWIII xD OMG I'M A WAR LORD IN WWIII! No I'm not D: It just sounded like I was...<p>

Please ignore me

but don't ignore the fact that chapter 6 is going to be soon ;p

SEE YOU SOON!...I hope ;p


	6. Our Shared Past Forgotten

OMG a long chapter in such a small period of time! How is this possible!

Well, my dear readers, I had mostly pre-written this chapter in a different document so all I had to do was copy and paste :D But I did write a lit D:

So Francis's past is revealed completely in this chapter, no secrets, no gnah, no nothing but the truth and only the truth...with a dash of mystery ;p

So eventually you'll reach the part where it says Francis's past, at the end of the 'Francis's past story thing-a-magig' there are going to be things like * blah blah and such, well it's not the end of the chapter, **_it's just the translation of everything French in Francis's past_**! **_Not the full chapter_**! **_Just Francis's past_**! At the end of the chapter is the translation of everything else but Francis's past so please don't get that confused!

Without further ado! Enjoy!

* * *

><p>If you love me you'll read this chapter while listenning to this song: .comwatch?v=QGtN3lpI2f4 (add **_youtube_** in front of the link please 8D) THANKS! NOW ENJOY FOR REALZ!

* * *

><p>Arthur pulled out a folder containing the images of Lord Edelstein's corpse. He handed it to Francis and sat behind his desk.<p>

"The first few pictures are how we found him." Arthur explained as Francis flipped through quickly. "The other half is the autopsy performed on the body."

Francis separated the pile; he placed the crime scene photos on the desk and kept the autopsy pictures in his hands. He flipped through them one by one.

"So, in addition to the main wound on the right side, there were various bruises." Francis mumbled. "This means that he had gotten into a fight…if I had to guess the bruises were caused by the murderer."

"That's what we thought at first," Arthur admitted. "It's still a possibility but Lady Hédéváry told us that Lord Edelstein already had some of those bruises."

"What would have been the cause?" Francis asked.

"Supposedly he was assaulted when he went grocery shopping." Arthur explained. "You'd think he'd sent Feliciano or someone else to do that for him…"

"You know, I think I should have seen these pictures before interviewing the suspects…" Francis said laying back in his chair.

"Yea, sorry." Arthur mumbled, "We are quite disorganised and I was eager to see if you could pull out any new information…all though you could have done better if I showed you these before."

Francis didn't dare move for a moment. "Am I hearing this?" He asked peaking at Arthur, "Are you actually praising me?"

"Shut up!" Arthur hissed kicking Francis's chair causing him to fall on the ground. "Just look at the bloody pictures tell me things you've noticed or ask questions!"

Francis chuckled and pushed his chair back up before sitting on it again, he was about to be a smart ass with Arthur but decided against it and to concentrate a little more on the pictures.

"From what I can see he was stabbed." Francis said pointing to Lord Edelstein's right side, "Do you know what weapon was used?"

Arthur nodded. "The knife used is 3cm wide, though that doesn't help much."

"Did you check shops in the area to see if anyone sold deadly knives to anyone of our suspects?" Francis asked.

"I hardly think it necessary." Arthur replied.

"Did you?" Francis asked again.

"Yes we did." Arthur answered annoyed. "We came up with nothing and do you know why Detective Bonnefoy? Because all of our suspects aren't from the country! The murder weapon was most likely purchased from their country and not here!"

Francis interrupted himself as a huge headache erupted. He felt dizzy and every time he would glance at the autopsies, he would feel nauseas as the picture of Lord Edelstein would be replaced with the one of a blonde Frenchwoman he used to love.

"Hey, are you okay?" Arthur asked, he noticed his comrade becoming dramatically pale in an instant.

"Y-yea…" Francis stuttered weakly, "I just need my pills…"

Quickly, the French detective fished through his pockets to find his medicine but searched in vain. "_Merde*…_" he hissed. "I can't find my pills…"

Francis got up, almost falling over, wanting to retrace his footsteps fast so he could get his pills back but Arthur stopped him by waving them in front of his nose.

"Your performance is rather convincing." Arthur complemented. "But, of course, no one can develop much an interest to these pills. I must ask, why did you remove the label? One would think that these were actually drugs or something else-"

"Give them back!" Francis hissed as he lunged over the desk to try to grab the pills.

Arthur moved away just in time but was desolated by the pictures flying around creating a mess he would have to clean up. "Not so fast." Arthur grinned sadistically, "First I want my wallet back."

"Look this isn't-"

"_Francis…"_

Everything was starting to fade around him. He could barely hear Arthur's voice calling his name slightly panicked.

"_Je t'aime…"_

Finally, complete blackness.

_Francis suddenly found himself in a very familiar room located in a very familiar house. The room was burning but Francis didn't feel panicked, he starred at the only piece of furniture in the room, it being a black piano. Francis wanted to walk over to it, but some one had grabbed his hand to stop him from taking a step._

_Francis looked back and his eyes widened as he saw the blonde Frenchwoman he kept remembering. Tears spilled from his eyes as he quickly embraced her tightly._

"_Jeanne…" He whispered in her ear finally being able to remember her name, "Jeanne, je t'aime tans…**"_

_Jeanne giggled softly and hugged back before taking a more serious tone. __"Francis," she started, "Lorsque tu achèveras cette enquête, tu vas découvrir quelque chose de très important par rapport à notre passé. Te crois tu capable de l'affronté?***"_

_"...L'affronter?****" Francis asked looking his dearest lover in the eyes._

"_Celui qui nous a tout pris.__*****" __Jeanne answered in a whisper._

_Francis had heard and nodded. __"J'en serai capable.******" He assured._

"_Bien," Jeanne smiled leaning back into Francis's embrace. __"À la fin de cette histoire…tu m'auras oublié…*******"_

_Under Francis's touch, Jeanne started to become ash and slip away. Francis's eyes widened as he held his lovely Jeanne tighter and begged her not to leave. Jeanne smiled and let a tear, just one, escape her eye._

"_Tu seras enfin en paix.********" Jeanne promised._

_Jeanne disappeared from Francis's warmth as ashes. More ashes were falling or floating in the air around him as he starred at his empty hands. Francis clutched them and fell to his knees burying his face in his hands whispering over and over again:_

"_Je t'aime, je t'aime, Je t'aime-"_

Francis woke up with a gasp and sat up immediately almost colliding with Arthur's head. Luckily, the Brit had moved away just in time.

"What the bloody hell has gotten into you!" He hissed at Francis. "These clearly aren't aspirins if you're going to faint over them! What are they!"

"It's none of your business." Francis answered dryly, "Now where are they?"

"Like hell it isn't any of my business!" Arthur snapped. "I still have your pills so you're going to tell me what I want to know before I give them back!"

Francis sighed and starred at Arthur for a moment, examining him carefully. "Fine." He finally gave in.

* * *

><p>Francis's Past<p>

* * *

><p><em>He was a player.<em>

_He knew he was._

_All though, believe it or not, he had once been in love. _

_Madly in love. She had been the only thing he could think about, but even if they had promised never to leave each other, to remain by the other's side no matter what, they couldn't escape the cold, cruel grip of death. _

_They had met in the Elyse fields on what could have been the most beautiful autumn day of all times. Francis had been sitting under a tree contemplating the clouds. He wasn't thinking about anything in particular, besides why his parents had abandoned him. He wasn't upset, just curious. It wasn't like he saw them at all anyways._

"_Tennez.*"_

_Francis looked a little to his right to see the most beautiful woman ever. She had short golden hair, sapphire blue eyes, milky skin that seemed soft to the touch but her smile was what Francis loved the most. It was so soft and warm._

_She was handing him an orange scarf._

"_Je ne suis pas…pauvre…__**" __Francis mumbled flashing a soft smile._

"_Peut-être, mais être riche ou pauvre ne vous protègera pas du froid.***" __She giggled pushing the scarf closer to him._

_Francis chuckled as well. He took the scarf as he stood. __"Est-ce que je peux le garder?****" __Francis asked._

_The blonde haired beauty smiled and nodded. "C'était le but.*****" She admitted, the warmth from her smile seemed to increase._

"_Quel est votre nom?******" Francis asked curiously._

"_Jeanne." She answered._

_Francis invited her to go to a bakery for a bite. Gladly, Jeanne accepted. They ended up spending the whole day together talking and getting to know each other better. They met the next day, the day after that and the day after that. Every day they started spending day together and Francis forgot about his self-pity having to do with his parents abandoning him. He had Jeanne now, which was all that mattered._

_It had been love at first sight that would turn into agape love in no time. They loved each other so much everyone around them thought it was the most adorable thing ever. The old folk tend to refer to them as _Romeo and Juliet with a happy ending.

_Francis and Jeanne didn't mind. They liked the title given to them. _

_When they were a little older, Francis and Jeanne moved in together. It took minimal convincing on Francis's part towards Jeanne's father, which had been a surprise to him._

_After two years of living together, they made love for the first time. It was then that Francis realise she, Jeanne, was the only woman he would ever love. When they woke up the next morning, he asked her in marriage and Jeanne accepted. All though Francis had the money to pay for everything than and there, Jeanne's father insisted on paying for it himself and to wait until he had gathered up the money for an ideal wedding._

_During those years of waiting, Francis had landed the job as a detective. He had answered two minor cases so far and he was just about to tackle another minor case. Jeanne had been behind him in everything he did, and just like every other time, she told him she was rooting for him and that he could solve it in no time. Little did Francis know, he would make an enemy during the case._

_Francis was investigating the murder of a hooker, which was nothing uncommon. It had gone cold for three months but Francis was convinced he could solve it. Seeing that they had nothing to lose, the heads of the office gave the case to Francis as a side job. _

_Two weeks studying the case, Francis had made considerable progress to have the case re-opened and directed under his order. It was an honour for Francis that he took very seriously._

_One day, when the case was just about to be solved, he stopped at a bakery to get some cake to celebrate. Back home, Jeanne was waiting for him to come home to tell him that they could finally get married. Baking the cake took longer then expected and Francis hoped that Jeanne wouldn't be too upset._

_Just as he was leaving the bakery, an elderly man he spoke with a considerable amount of times along with Jeanne barged in._

"_Monsieur Bonnefoy!" He wheezed out of breath as if he had been running. "V-votre maison…*******"_

_His house was burning. Disgusting red flames were engulfing his home and Jeanne that resided inside._

_Jeanne._

_He desperately pushed through the firefighters to get inside his house screaming his love's name. He managed to get inside the flaming house where he ran around frantically looking for Jeanne._

_He found her sitting against the piano in a pool of blood, a nasty wound on her side gushing with blood. He ran to her side, tears threatening to spill from his eyes._

"_Jeanne…q-qui…" He was speechless, who could think of doing this to her?_

_Jeanne shakily reached for his hand and she shook her head gently. "Cours…********" She whispered pleadingly._

_Noise of running footsteps ran from the room and into the corridor, thinking it was the one who stabbed Jeanne, he ran to the entrance of the room to spot a silhouette of a man running away. He let it slide, he needed to be with Jeanne and get her out._

_He looked back at his love and his heart dropped. The warmth he normally felt when she smiled disappeared into sadness. She was smiling the saddest smile ever and Francis couldn't bare it._

_He ran to her side, kneeling in her blood and scooping her into his arms. "Jeanne…" He whispered sadly as tears spilled from his eyes. "Je t'aime…je t'aime tellement…"_

_She weakly nuzzled her head into his neck. "Cours." She begged again._

"_Non!" __He refused. "Je ne te quiterras pas ! __Je préfère brûler !********* "_

_She laughed lightly and stroke his hair for the last time. __"Je t'aime…Je t'aime tellement…" She confessed weakly. "Mais il faut que tu parte… Tu as tant de choses à faire... tant de choses encore... Vis ta vie, pour toi, et pour moi__…**********"_

"_Jeanne…" Francis whispered, he felt like his heart was turning into ashes like their house. __"Ne me quitte pas…***********"_

"_Je suis tellement désolé…" Jeanne apologized as a tear slipped from her eye. "Je t'aime.************"_

_Jeanne died in his arms, he stopped hearing everything around him. He didn't hear the firefighter yell at him and pull him out of the house, the crackling of the fire or the sound of his house caving on his beloved. _

_He had sunken into a depression._

_For a full year, he was put on different anti-depressants that had no effect. Worried for his patient's health, the doctor in charge of Francis had put him on special pills that would make him forget everything that had happened in the past._

_His past love with Jeanne, past engagement, past title and his past orange scarf. All of it would be forgotten._

* * *

><p>* Here<p>

** I'm not poor

*** Maybe, but being rich or poor won't protect you from the cold.

**** Can I keep it?

***** That was the goal

****** What's your name?

******* Mister Bonnefoy! Y-your house is…

******** Run

********* No! I won't leave you! I rather burn!

********** I love you…I love you so much…But you need to go…you have so many things to do with your life…so many things left to do…Live your life for me and for you

*********** Jeanne…don't leave me…

************ I'm so sorry…I love you…

* * *

><p>"So these are the same pills that Lady Hédéváry take?" Arthur asked.<p>

Francis nodded. "The doctor said that everything would come back to me if I missed even one pill for the treatment." Francis explained longing for his pills, "But, he also said that if I had taken enough pills and missed one, when I would take the pills again and go to sleep I would forget everything again."

"Isn't that…sad?" Arthur asked.

Francis looked at him questionably.

"I mean…I don't give a bloody damn if that's what you decide to do but…" Arthur paused again trying to pick his words properly. "If I ever experienced a love so strong for someone that I lost…I wouldn't ever want to forget."

Francis smirked. He leaned in and kissed Arthur's lips promptly before the other could do anything about it. Arthur blushed darkly and hid his face in his hands.

"Wasn't that whole story you just told me a confession to you being straight!" Arthur asked annoyed and embarrassed.

Francis smiled lovingly and shook his head. "No; wasn't that thing you said earlier a confession to not wanting to forget _the wonderful_ _moments_ you've spent with me?" The Frenchman teased.

Arthur growled and threw the pills in Francis's face. "Do what ever the fuck you want with your bloody pills!" He hissed stomping out of the room.

Francis chuckled and starred at the pills pensively. He thought about Arthur had said and then he thought about what Jeanne had told him in his dreams. Starring at the pills silently for a long time, Francis finally made his choice.

He popped the cap open and took the dose he needed to have taken. Physical details of the past were starting the become blurry and now he had to go to sleep to forget everything again.

* * *

><p>* Shit<p>

** Jeanne, I love you so much

*** Francis, when you'll finish this case, you'll discover something very important having to do with our shared past. Do you think yourself capable to face him?

**** Who?

***** The one who took everything from us.

****** I will be capable.

******* Good, at the end of this story…you'll have forgotten all about me

******** You'll finally be in peace

* * *

><p>I feel kinda bad for torturing Francis so much D: But then again, whatever ;p So that was the bit of Shutter Island-ness of the chapter (the dream Francis had for Jeanne) and I don't think there'll be anymore since now, couple-wise, it's mostly going to be FrUk xD YAAAAAAAYYYY! Yaoi!<p>

Anywho, I think I might get to writting chapter 7 right away cuz I totally feel in the mood for this story to progress a lot more but I might wait till after I'm done cleaning my room D:

Whatever, THANKS FOR READING AND SEE YOU NEXT CHAPTER!


	7. Your Secret, I'll Keep

Confession XIII: I forgot I was doing this roman numeral crap

Confession XIV: I'm watching Maury Povich right now and some girl named Lakesha wouldn't shut up...but I like her name 8D It looks so pretty

Confession XV: Arthur is very OOC, in my opinion, in this chapter and doesn't use much 'British slang'...

Lol I'm not going to keep you pplz waiting anymore, have fun and see you at the end of this chapter :3

* * *

><p>Arthur watched as his partner slept. He had returned after stomping off and grabbing a cup of tea to find him dead asleep, clutching the bottle of pills. He took a chair and sat next to the bed, waiting for him to wake up so they could continue their work. Arthur carefully looked at Francis's sleeping face and felt himself blush slowly.<p>

_Gah!_ Arthur gasped in his mind. _Why am I blushing? That's stupid…I've met that pervert just a few days ago…_

Arthur continued to stare at Francis. He had noticed how the Frenchman seemed sad all though sleeping.

"I wonder if he's dreaming about her…" Arthur mumbled to himself aloud.

"Who's her?"

Arthur jolted wildly and turned around. "Bloody hell Alfred! You know I hate it when you sneak up on me!" Arthur hissed.

Alfred was a forensics expert working on the case. He had been picked up from America as one of the best to investigate the corpse of Lord Edelstein, all though Arthur knew Alfred even before the case. When he was younger, he had left on an exchange program to America to the best school of law where he had met the man. He had known Alfred as a troublemaker and a womanizer, but was the only one who knew that his heart lied in the hands of a Canadian boy doing the same thing Arthur was in America. After his days in America, Arthur went home to find, two days later, Alfred and Matthew (Alfred's lover) in England claiming to be on another exchange program. From that day on, they've always kept contact.

Alfred laughed as he walked in the room followed by his lover who could easily be mistaken for his brother. "I hope you don't mind me bringing Mattie with me." Alfred said sarcastically, he already knew that it did bother Arthur. "We were supposed to go on a date when you called me over."

"You know, I'm one of the rare people who will tolerate homosexuality." Arthur explained strictly, folding his arms over his chest. "If you two go on a date, you're definitely going to run into some trouble."

Alfred laughed cheekily. "No need to worry, I am the hero!" He announced proudly and grabbed Matthew, "And Mattie's my woman!"

Matthew blushed and looked away. "If you prefer, I can wait outside, Arthur." The wise boy offered.

"What? No need-"

"If you would. What we're going to talk about is classified." Arthur interrupted smiling softly. _He really is a good kid._

Alfred immediately started to pout as his lover left the room closing the door behind himself carefully. Alfred grabbed the last spare chair and placed it next to Arthur before sitting on it. He looked at Francis sleeping.

"So the famous Bonnefoy is doing you?" Alfred asked casually.

Arthur blushed violently. "That was one time!" He blurted out flustered.

Alfred chuckled. "I was kidding—wait…what did you just say?"

Arthur's blush went darker. "N-nothing! Look, he's just my partner okay!" Arthur yelled.

The American smirked, "Okay, fine." America said letting go of the previous subject. "Why did you want me over?"

"I wanted you to talk to the frog here," Arthur gestured Francis, "About the autopsie you performed on Lord Edelstein, but as you can see, he's sleeping."

"Why don't you wake him up?" Alfred asked leaning in to shake Francis.

Arthur quickly stopped him, "You can't."

"Why not?" Alfred questioned.

"He took some…medication and needs to sleep…" Arthur vaguely explained.

Alfred looked at Arthur and then to Francis before noticing the bottle of pills in his hand. The blonde forensic scientist leaned in and grabbed it before Arthur could stop him again. Alfred looked at the label and seemed visibly confused.

"Why does he have this?" Arthur tried looking for a good explanation but nothing came to mind. Alfred had soon resumed talking. "It's an illegal drug that is still under investigation…how long has he been taking this?"

Arthur shrugged, "Why are you asking? His doctor prescribed it to him so he could…" Arthur interrupted himself and thought for a moment. He shouldn't tell anyone what Francis had confided to him a few hours ago. "Never mind…"

Alfred frowned. "No! How long? You're not telling me something!" He growled. "Whatever you're hiding can cost him his life! It's illegal for a good reason!"

"I don't know okay!" Arthur hissed getting annoyed with Alfred's tone. "He got the pills two years ago but he could have started using them days, weeks, months after he first got them!"

Alfred took a deep sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why? Why would his doctor prescribe him those pills?"

"I don't know!" Arthur lied.

Alfred looked him straight in the eyes, "Are you serious?" He asked. "You're angry so I don't need you lying to me."

Arthur glared at him. "I. Don't. Know." The Brit repeated gritting his teeth.

Alfred stood from his chair and placed it back where he had found it. "I'm in England until the case is solved and that the murderer is convicted. We'll do this another time." Alfred said leaving the room and closing the door behind himself.

Arthur starred at the door.

"Some fight." Francis sighed sitting up.

Arthur faced him unfazed. "How long have you been up?"

"Not long…" Francis admitted, "But I heard the talk about my pills…"

"Oh…" Arthur said in a guilty tone.

Francis smirked. "I assume I told you what they did?"

Arthur starred at Francis puzzled. _He…he doesn't remember?_

Francis suddenly grabbed Arthur's and pulled him close to him enough to kiss him. Arthur blushed violently and pulled away.

"You let your guard down." Francis chuckled. "I couldn't help myself."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "W-what ever."

"So what were you thinking about?" Francis questioned as he slipped out of the infirmary bed.

"Hun?"

"You were distracted by thoughts weren't you?"

Arthur shook his head. "No it's nothing." He assured extending a hand to Francis. "Let's go."

The Frenchman smirked and took the offered hand. "Aren't you being kind?"

"Well…whatever." The Brit sighed heaving Francis to his feet. "I wanted you to meet someone but you just missed him. I'll bring you back to your hotel now."

And so Arthur escorted Francis back to his hotel by cab. The blonde Frenchman had been surprised that it was so dark out. He could have sworn he hadn't slept for that long. The drive was silent and somewhat awkward, even the driver was affected by the odd atmosphere.

"See you tomorrow." Arthur saluted as Francis got out of the car.

"Why don't you step out?" Francis offered. "We could go grab supper."

Arthur was just about to refuse as he waved Arthur's wallet around again.

_God bloody damn it!_ Arthur hissed in his mind as he hit his head on the bench. _I could have taken it while he was sleeping!_

Reluctantly and angrily, Arthur slipped out of the car and Francis paid the cab driver with his money, which had angered the Brit. Francis then dragged Arthur into the hotel laughing and let him go when he was elbowed in the stomach.

"French froggy thief!" Arthur yelled.

"Don't worry, I'll pay you back." Francis reassured.

"You better you limey bastard!" Arthur growled.

Francis continued laughing as he fished through his pockets looking for his pills. Suddenly, he stopped laughing and his skin went pale. A panicked expression took over his face as he looked through every pocket he had, Arthur starring at him confused over the sudden reaction.

"What's wrong?" Arthur asked.

"My…my pills…" Francis stuttered. "Did you take them?"

"Um…no…" Arthur started to feel slightly panicked too. "Maybe they're back in the infirmary…"

"I could have sworn they were in my pockets…" Francis mumbled nervously.

"No, Alfred and I saw-" Arthur suddenly remembered how Alfred had taken Francis's pills and never gave them back. "Fuck."

"What?"

"Alfred took your pills…"

"The guy you were arguing with?" Francis asked.

"Y-yea…He took them because he was curious…" Arthur remembered scratching the back of his head. "I forgot to ask him for them back…"

"All right…" Francis started and grabbed Arthur's arm dragging him to the elevators. "We'll find him tomorrow…"

"Tomorrow! But you're-"

"I have a few extras in my luggage just in case." Francis explained.

"Smart." The Brit complemented. "But why are you dragging me to your room?"

Francis smirked and that was all Arthur needed to know that the stereotypical Frenchman wanted sex. Feeling guilty and responsible of the loss of the pills, Arthur accepted this as his punishment and let himself be dragged to Francis's room.

Immediately in front of the door, Francis locked lips with Arthur. Pleased that the Brit wasn't fighting back, Francis took it to his room and to his bed. He pinned Arthur's arms over his head as he trailed soft kisses down his neck. The Frenchman undid Arthur's tie and threw it aside as he started to unbutton his shirt exposing his chest and hardened nipples.

Francis took them in his mouth and started to tease gently and pleasantly. Arthur gasped and forced himself to hold in a mewl of pleasure. He gripped onto the taller detective's long, blonde hair and bit his lip as the other continued to pleasure him. Francis trailed his lips to the other neglected nipple and began the same treatment he had inflicted on the other. This time Arthur wasn't able to suppress a squeak of pleasure.

Francis had stopped momentarily to peak at his uke's face but Arthur quickly covered his eyes growling:

"D-don't stop…frog!"

Chuckling before continuing, Francis's lips lowered down Arthur's stomach stopping at the waistband of his pants. There was a visible bulge in the Brit's pants that Francis couldn't help but comment on.

"You're hard over this much?" He joked.

"S-shut up!"

Francis cupped Arthur's crotched and massaged it gently. Oddly enough, Arthur started to feel more stirred up than he had the first time Francis fucked him. A moan rolled out of his mouth and as the Frenchman continued to pleasure his lower area, he found himself unable to stop his moaning. Francis was pleased.

He pressed his lips back against Arthur's and freed his erection from his pants. He started to pump it with long slow strokes having Arthur arch his back in pleasure and lean into Francis's touch. Arthur tightly gripped Francis's blonde hair just as he moaned continuously loudly in the Frenchman's skilled kiss. Arthur immediately broke the kiss as he felt himself about to climax, he screamed Francis's name and spilled all of his warm seeds in his hand. Arthur panted heavily, his eyes hazed with lust and pleasure.

"How lovely." Francis complemented as he licked some of the cum from his hand.

"D-don't lick that…" Arthur breath embarrassedly.

Francis chuckled, "Okay."

Francis pulled down Arthur's pants and underwear; he raised his legs and inserted the first digit. Arthur gritted his teeth and hissed in slight pain, this was something he would never get used to.

_W-wait! It's not like I'm going to do this again! _Arthur thought mentally slapping himself. _Well…at least when that stupid frog leaves the country…_

Without any warning, Francis immediately added the two last digits at the same time causing the blonde Brit to yelp in pain.

"B-bastard!" Arthur cussed angrily.

"_Pardon_, I didn't mean it to hurt…" Francis said truthfully.

Arthur rolled his eyes and soon forgot the reason of his anger as Francis continued to stretch him by thrusting his fingers in and out. At first, it hurt a lot but got used to them rather quickly when they found his prostate. Francis did his best to remember the location for when he would penetrate the Brit, which would be soon if he lost control but the last thing he wanted to do was hurt him so he forced himself to be patient.

By the time Arthur was properly stretched, he was on the verge of climaxing for the second time and couldn't repress a whine when Francis removed his fingers.

"Don't worry," Francis whispered huskily yet sexily in Arthur's ear. "_J'arrive._*"

Arthur blushed darkly, rivalling the red of a tomato. He looked away but Francis forced him to look back. He kissed Arthur's soft, abused lips as he freed his member from his pants and pushed it in the Brit's tight entrance. Arthur screamed clutching at Francis's back, digging his nails pass the fabric and into the flesh. Francis brushed Arthur's hair soothingly and kissed his neck as he waited for his lovely partner to get used to his size.

"How come it didn't hurt that much the first time!" Arthur hissed.

"We were drunk." Francis reminded.

Slowly, the Frenchman started to move causing Arthur to gasp and flinch in pain. He quickly tightened his grip on Francis's back.

"Ngh…relax…" Francis grunted in pain.

"I would if you'd be gentler!" Arthur retorted.

"All right, _désolé.**_" Francis apologized.

Francis continued moving but slower and gentler. Arthur clawed at him, but not as much or as painful as before. Francis aimed deep and tried remembering where he had found Arthur's prostate, which took him a few thrusts. He knew he hit it when Arthur screamed in pleasure and leaned further onto Francis's member. Francis smirked and started to thrust in harder and faster, the more he did the more Arthur moaned or screamed in pure bliss.

"A-ah! I-I'm really going to…!" Arthur cried in pleasure.

"What? We just started." Francis said between groans.

He wrapped his fingers around the head of Arthur's member and squeezed tight enough to stop him from cumming. Arthur whimpered, tears started to form in his eyes. Francis wasn't sure if it was caused by the overwhelming pleasure he was currently feeling or the dire need to cum. Arthur himself couldn't tell.

Francis pounded into Arthur for another hour. Nearing the end of said hour, every time he would take a glimpse at Arthur, he would see the image of another woman that appeared foreign yet familiar to him. He couldn't remember anything about her at all except for her golden blonde hair and her name. Francis tried to push her out of his mind but he could not.

Finally, he let go of Arthur's member allowing him to climax, which he did right away. The feeling of the other's tight walls squeezing even more on his hardened length was too much to bare and came moaning:

"J-Jeanne…"

Time seemed to have frozen when he moaned out her name. At first, Francis wasn't expecting much of a reaction since Arthur didn't seem to be keen on having sex to begin with but the look the smaller blonde had on his face surprised him. Arthur's eyes were glowing as if filled with tears of sadness accompanied with a hurt expression.

"Arthur…"

"I already told you to call me Mister Kirkland!" Arthur hissed his voice sounding stuffy do to holding back tears.

"A—"

"Don't say anything!" Arthur interrupted as he managed to get away from Francis. "It's not like I care anyways!"

Francis grabbed Arthur's arm quickly and pulled him back down before he could get off the bed. Arthur tried to get away but Francis managed to pull him back even further and successfully embrace him.

"Arthur…" Francis whispered in the struggling blonde's ear. "If you don't care…why are you crying?"

"Sod off!" Arthur hissed. "I'm not crying! You can't even see my face!"

Francis smiled softly. "I don't need to see your face…" He paused shortly. "To feel your warm tears falling on my arms."

Arthur turned around suddenly; tears were in fact falling from his eyes, and punched Francis weakly. "Fuck you! I hate you, bloody frog!" Arthur cried hiding his face in Francis's suit. "Why do you do this to me! Why am I so worked up…"

"Arthur…" Francis said softly. "Truthfully…I feel like I know this _Jeanne…_ but I honestly don't remember her…it slipped out and I'm sorry…"

_Oh…right…_Arthur remembered. _The pills…he doesn't remember her anymore…_

"It's…" Arthur wiped away his tears and noticed that Francis's suit was dirty with his cum. "It's not like I'm your girlfriend…and…your suit is dirty…"

"I have more." Francis laughed. "How about I go get us some gourmet food in the hotel restaurant?"

"W-what ever…" Arthur mumbled and lied back down on the bed taking off the rest of his dirty clothes.

Francis went downstairs, changing first, and placed an order to be brought to his room once it would be ready along with the finest wine. The food was brought in shortly and the two ate talking about everything but the case. Once they finished and the waiters took the empty plates away, Francis laid on his back and started dozing off.

"Here." Arthur said giving him pills.

Francis took them without the help of water and smiled. "I like you a lot, you know." He admitted his eyes fluttering close.

Arthur smiled lightly but forced it away. "You haven't known me for that long."

"_C'est vrai***,_" Francis agreed. "But I feel like I've known you for a very long time."

"Francis…" Arthur mumbled he leaned in and whispered in his partner's ear: "I'll keep your secret."

"_Merci._"

And Francis dozed off.

* * *

><p>* I'm coming<p>

** Sorry

*** That's true

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><p>Alfred! You lil rascal! You stole the supposedly danger yet illegal pills xD<p>

Jeanne! You darlin' lil saint! (I fucking love Jeanne) You ruined sex for Arthur and made the situation awkward for Francis xD Speaking of which...

Confession XVI: I really, REALLY hate that France's human name is Francis because writting the sex scenes are the most awkward things ever Dx

Confession XVII: I don't know roman numerals pass 20 xD

Enough with the confessions for a moment! All though they are super fun D So, I don't know if last chapter I was like: 'Interviewing the Switzerland siblings next chapter' well, as you can see, I lied T_T BUT IT WILL BE NEXT CHAPTER! Maybe in that chapter as well I'll add the conversation with Alfred that was supposed to have with Francis xD


	8. The Switzerland Siblings

**I'm really loving DB, this chapter turned out to be much longer than it was supposed to be xD**

**I guess that's good for you hun? LOL well anyways its the long awaited SWITZERLAND SIBLINGS INTERROGATION! I have nothing much to say so my author's comment ends here for now ;p**

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><p>His eyes fluttering open, the first thing Arthur saw when he woke up was Francis's face. He suddenly jolted violently into a sitting position and screamed waking up everyone who was still sleeping. Francis woke up fully alert and tried to calm Arthur down but was kicked off the bed.<p>

"Don't touch me you bloody pervert!" Arthur cried covering himself with the blankets. "What did you do to me this time! Did you get me drunk! I swear! How are you not in prison!"

Francis rubbed the back of his head wincing at the after pain of the blow. "I don't know…" he grumbled. "I don't even remember what happened yesterday!"

Arthur was shocked at first but calmed himself down. "Well you were asleep the majority of the day." Arthur mumbled to himself.

Francis smirked and crawled back on the bed. "Mind refreshing my memory?" He grabbed Arthur's wrists and pinned them back against the bed as he kissed his neck.

"A-ah!" Arthur flinched. "G-get off!"

Francis didn't respond and continued kissing the Brit's neck slowly lowering the trail of kisses when Arthur, angrily, kicked him in the stomach and pushed him off.

"I said get off!" His hissed. "We have work to do! We need to bring closure to Lady Hédéváry!"

Francis held his stomach. "C-can't that wait a little?" He chocked out painfully.

"She waited long enough! We're going to the Zwingli Part Time Mansion today!" Arthur announced in a tone that assured he wouldn't go back on his word.

France whined. "But it's so far away! And cars* are so uncomfortable!"

"Shut up and get dressed!" Arthur barked as he gathered his clothes.

"Are you really going to wear that again?" Francis chuckled.

"Of course not!" Arthur retorted, "We're going to go to my house and get some clothes."

"How wonderful! I've never been to your house!" Francis chirped happily.

"You won't be going in." Arthur stated dryly. "You'll be waiting with the driver until I finish getting changed."

Francis pouted. "You're really no fun."

Arthur quickly dressed himself with his dirty clothes as Francis slipped on some new ones and made himself look excessively 'pretty'. Arthur had asked no questions reasoning with himself that Francis was French so it was normal that he made himself look gorgeous.

They headed to the hotel lobby where Francis was bitched at for making too much noise entering the hotel and in his room. However, it was very polite considering he was probably one of their most valued clients. Francis humbly apologized flirting with the woman who complained to him earning a disapproving look from Arthur.

Finally, they made it to the driver and the car. From there, they drove to Arthur's apartment complex where he would retrieve his clothes. As he disembarked the vehicle he looked and Francis sternly in the eyes and said:

"I swear I'll kill you if you try to follow me inside."

Francis grinned, "Do you not trust me, my dear Arthur?"

Arthur said nothing and continued to stare at him with the same, warning intensity. He then finally turned his back and disappeared into the building. He climbed the stairs up to the pent house on the top floor and was greeted by his mother's angry babbling.

"Where were you young man?" He asked. "Why do you not sleep at home anymore? Did you find yourself a girlfriend? You better give me grand children soon! I wish to see them before I die!"

"Good to see you too Mumsy." Arthur greeted sarcastically.

He walked over to his room to get changed as his mother continued to complain about many things that Arthur could care much less about.

"And why won't you tell me where you were?" His mother asked, "Do you know how worried I was?"

"I was sleeping at a friend's house." Arthur lied as he stripped down his dirty clothes.

"Which friend? Is it a girl? Will I be getting grand children?"

Arthur saw no point in answering any of her questions anymore. She was asking so many one after the other that he knew what would typically happen next. She would answer all of them herself which meant she would embark and this giant conversation starring her and herself. Arthur merely rolled his eyes as the predictable happened.

Just as he was finishing dressing himself up, he noticed that his mother had stopped conversing with herself and seemed to be talking to someone else in this dreamy, girlish tone that was oh so very foreign to Arthur.

_She's gotten much better at talking to herself._ Arthur joked to himself.

He chuckled lightly as he left his room. "Mumsy, I'm leaving for work a—"

"You're a very wonderful woman." Francis said as he got up, "But I pray you excuse me for our lovely Arthur is ready to start working."

Arthur's mother giggled and stood up as well, "I'll show you both to the door."

Francis smiled handsomely as Arthur remained speechless, his jaw touching the floor.

"Close your mouth honey," Arthur's mother schooled gently, "You'll end up eating flies."

Arthur snapped his mouth shut and quickly leaned towards his mother. "What did that frog tell you!"

"Arthur! That's no way to treat your fiancée!" She schooled again.

"M-my—MY WHAT!" Arthur shrieked.

"You're fiancée." His mother repeated again. "There's no need for you to react in such a way, I won't stop loving you because you prefer men to women. I have to admit it doesn't surprise me the least bit. You've never had a girlfriend before."

Arthur found himself speechless yet again, he had no idea what he was supposed to do. Should he explain to his mother that Francis was just an idiot who lied to her for the sake of his own pleasure or should he kill Francis immediately for putting ideas in his mother's head and disobeying him?

"All though," Arthur's mother continued, "I must admit that I support it a lot more knowing that the handsome Francis Bonnefoy is the one you fell for."

A giggle rolled out of his mother's mouth, as she blushed lightly looking at Francis. Arthur had made his decision, he would kill Francis.

"We're going!" Arthur hissed grabbing Francis by the collar.

"At least give me adopted grand children!" Arthur's mother called from the door.

Once they were in the stair well, Arthur punched Francis square in the mouth.

"You son of a bitch! What the fuck did I tell you, you twit!" Arthur yelled. "You put ideas into my Mumsy's head! How dare you! I did have a girlfriend!"

Francis laughed blocking a few of Arthur's punches lazily. "But it was so tempting and funny!" Francis defended poorly. "Your mother was so happy she was speechless when I walked in. She was also the one who guessed I was doing you."

"You're a stupid frog!" Arthur cried. "Why do you purposely try to ruin my life!"

"Hey!"

Francis grabbed both of Arthur's wrists and pinned him against the wall. He gave Arthur a look that caused shivers to run down his spine.

"I don't purposely try to ruin your life." Francis defended. "The occasions just show themselves."

A grin appeared on Francis's face causing Arthur to frown deeply and fight his way out of the Frenchman's grip. With a kick to the gut Arthur angrily stomped away and made his way down the stairs.

"I really hate you!"

Francis laughed and chased after Arthur. He grabbed his shoulder and forced him to turn around placing a quick kiss on the Englishman's lips. Arthur blushed darkly again and pried the pervert off.

"Would you stop!" Arthur snapped as he continued his way down the stairs noisily to express his anger.

"No thank you." Francis replied as if Arthur had given him the option to refuse.

"You're really annoying!"

"But you like it." Francis purred.

Arthur stopped and turned around facing his partner, "Would you at least try to control yourself in front of the Zwingli siblings?"

The Zwingli mansion was much bigger than Lord Edelstein's. Not only that but they had made it more extravagant by placing Greek styled sculptures of half naked women and men cowering in dear around a fountain containing the symbol of death and justice.

"Well…" Francis snorted. "Lord Zwingli and his sister are now much more suspicious than Lord Weillschmidt."

"Don't judge this the same way you would judge a novel." Arthur schooled. "If there are elements that seem like symbols of foreshadowing don't treat them that way. It's things like that that lead detectives off the right path to the culprit."

All though Arthur had a point, it wasn't something that Francis could just ignore. The fountain was a representation of Lord Zwingli's way of thinking. He believed that death was the proper justice for a criminal.

Suddenly, the cracking of a gunshot resonated through the air. Both detectives looked towards the source of the sound and saw Lord Zwingli at the entrance with a shotgun in his hand, behind him was Miss Zwingli, his younger sister.

"What the hell are you doing on my property?" He hissed.

"We're detectives," Arthur announced calmly showing his badge.

"I know who the hell you are." Lord Zwingli announced rudely as he slammed the shotgun on the ground. "I remember you from when we were first questioned and Bonnefoy from the news papers. Now what the hell are you doing on my property!"

"We came to ask questions." Francis answered, taking over.

"We already answered them so leave." Lord Zwingli rudely hissed.

"You've answered the British's questions." Francis corrected, "Not the French."

"Is there a difference?" Lord Zwingli asked.

"But of course," Francis insisted. "_Elles sont en français.**_"

"_Vous me faites chier!***_" Lord Zwingli hissed glaring death at Francis.

"_Je vois que vous connaissez un certain degré de courtoisie._" Francis teased brilliantly. "_Écoutez, plus vite vous répondrez à nos questions, plus vite nous partirons.****_"

Lord Zwingli stayed quiet and starred at Francis carefully eyeing him.

"What the hell did you say to him?" Arthur asked.

"Shh."

The moment of silence continued for a few more minutes.

"Come in." Lord Zwingli ordered stepping to the side.

Francis grinned victoriously and entered the house closely followed by Arthur. Miss Zwingli showed both detectives to the living room and pleaded them to sit down fore she would soon return with some tea.

"You're too kind." Francis purred taking Miss Zwingli's hand into his and placing a gentle kiss on it.

Lord Zwingli passed by the back and his Francis on his head with the shotgun. He then cocked it and pressed the cannon to his back.

"You're reputation precedes you." He hissed dangerously. "Don't touch my sister."

"Wise move." Arthur complimented.

Francis laughed. "Come now, no need to so violent." Francis reassured, "We can all be civil."

"I'm not too sure since you're involved." Arthur mumbled.

"Shut up!" Francis hissed.

Lord Zwingli smiled to himself and sat across the two detectives as Miss Zwingli returned with the tea.

"That was rather quick." Arthur stated.

"I had already started brewing some." Miss Zwingli admitted with a shy smile.

She made her way to her brother's side and sat next to him and his shotgun.

"Let's go." Lord Zwingli ordered.

"I'm sorry Lord Zwingli." Francis said with an almost mocking smile. "We'll be interviewing your sister alone."

Lord Zwingli immediately got mad and grabbed his shotgun pointing it at Francis. "Get out." He hissed.

Arthur was tense and ready to act if the trigger was ever pulled, however Francis was as calm as can be.

"It seems you have something to hide." Francis stated.

"I don't." Lord Zwingli retorted.

"Then what's the harm in interviewing your sister without you?" Francis asked starring at Lord Zwingli straight in the eyes.

"I don't want you touching her."

"I said 'we' not 'me', Lord Zwingli."

There was another tense moment. Both Miss Zwingli and Arthur were sure that Lord Zwingli would pull the trigger.

"Fine." Lord Zwingli growled.

He left with his shotgun slamming the door on his heels.

Arthur was amazed. No matter how hard he or the other policemen tried to make Lord Zwingli leave his sister's side so they could be questioned individually, they had failed. They tried every tactic they could possibly think of, what made it so different that it worked for Francis?

"Well," Francis started leaning forward, just a little. "Would you prefer English or French?"

"English is fine." She whispered shyly eyeing the door every few seconds.

This had not escaped Francis's vigilant eyes. "Why do you keep looking at the door?" He asked. "Has your brother done something wrong?"

"W-won't he get charged with something like assaulting an officer?" Miss Zwingli asked truly worried for her brother's sake.

"I'm not an officer." Francis comforted with a smile, "just a detective."

Miss Zwingli smiled back and drank some tea with ease. Arthur was yet again amazed by Francis's use of words.

"I assume you know we're going to ask about the murder of Lord Edelstein right?" Francis asked bluntly. Miss Zwingli paled a little but nodded. "Good, now where were you then?"

"I…" Miss Zwingli looked at the door and then to Francis who nodded with a comforting smile. "I was at home. We don't have maids here because brother thinks it's much too expensive for this house, so I was cooking for him when he would come back." She paused and looked at the door, "When he came back…he looked different."

"Different how?" Francis asked.

"W-well…" She looked at the door for a long time, "I don't know how to explain…He was just different…as if something had happened…I tried to ask him what was wrong but he insisted there was nothing wrong."

Miss Zwingli held her breath as he gazed at the door expecting something to happen. When nothing came she continued.

"Later, when I was supposed to be sleeping…" Miss Zwingli was now whispering and her eyes were locked on the door, "I heard brother cry and moan _Roderick_ again and again..."

Arthur and Francis exchanged a quick glance and nodded. "Is there anything else I should know about that day?" Francis asked.

Miss Zwingli shook her head. "B-But it wasn't brother." She quickly added.

Francis raised an eyebrow. "Why do you say that?"

"He's a really kind person!" She insisted desperately, "He took care of me when papa and mama died a-and he also took care of Roderick when we were kids!"

"I thought the Zwingli and Edelstein have hated each other for generations." Arthur said curious to what this thing was about.

"T-that's true…" She admitted. "B-but since our houses are next door in whichever country you can think of, we used to play together in secret. Brother and Roderick were very best friends, that's why brother didn't do it!"

"What happened after that?" Arthur asked. "How did he get to hating Lord Edelstein so much?"

"One day, we were playing in the forest," Miss Zwingli started starring into her cup of tea as if she could see the events unfold into the amber coloured liquid, "We made a tree house…but it wasn't actually a tree house because it was on the ground…in our house were a bunch of drawings and other things we did together. Brother finally talked about the relationship between our families…he said that it was stupid and we could all be friends if Roderick's father apologized to ours. However, Roderick got mad and said that the one at fault wasn't this father but ours…I tried to get them to calm down but brother got so mad that he ripped everything we made and made me leave with him…"

"So you don't have any ill will towards Lord Edelstein?" Francis asked.

"No…and neither does my brother…" Miss Zwingli concluded.

Francis stood up, "Thank you for your time…" He said, "I need to ask you to stay here until we finish questioning your brother."

"Okay…"

The two men left with a light bow and headed out the room by the same way Lord Zwingli had. Sure enough, Lord Zwingli was waiting next to the door, leaning on the wall, his shotgun now strapped on his back.

"Do you carry that everywhere?" Francis asked curiously.

"We have no security here." Lord Zwingli explained, "So I'm in charge of keeping Lili safe."

"How noble." Francis complimented.

"Mister Bonnefoy will proceed to ask you questions." Arthur announced getting ready to write down Lord Zwingli's answers.

Francis nodded, "We'll start with what Miss Zwingli told us." Francis began folding his arms. "Your sister told us that on the day of the murder you came home looking…different. She said she tried asking you what was wrong but you insisted that there was nothing."

"That's because there was nothing wrong."

"Then, do care to explain why you were crying and moaning Lord Edelstein's name." Arthur shot back, visibly annoyed by Lord Zwingli's attitude.

Lord Zwingli froze and the colour drained from his face. He searched Francis's face wondering how he could have gotten such information from his sister.

"She woke up in the dead of night." Francis explained slowly, "And heard you."

Lord Zwingli nodded and starred at the floor pensively.

"Don't try to get out of it." Francis pleaded. "We need your help to figure out who did this. Don't you want closure too?"

Lord Zwingli shot a glare at Francis. He understood what the Frenchman was implying and was denying himself of a happy past he used to share with Lord Edelstein. It all unfolded in the Swiss' mind one after the other; the laughter, the happiness, the drawings all ended by a stupid fight they made personal.

"Lord Zwingli," Arthur said softly, "You're crying."

Indeed, the blonde aristocrat was crying. How could he deny himself any longer? He missed Lord Edelstein as a friend. He missed speaking with him about stuff they shared in common. He missed him so much that he started buying houses next door to the ones he bought so he could at least catch a glimpse of him here and then.

"He…was supposed to marry Lili…" Lord Zwingli mumbled rubbing the tears away in an indecent way. "But that stopped when we told our parents we didn't like each other…and then our fathers got into another fight…the next thing we know he's engaged to Lady Hédéváry…Then there was no hope to regain that friendship…"

"Were you jealous or angry?" Francis asked cautiously expecting an outburst.

"Of course I was!" Lord Zwingli yelled hitting the wall. "We were supposed to become brothers! W-we were supposed to be friends again! But I knew by the way he looked at Lady Hédéváry, he would never reconsider marrying Lili…"

Francis gave Lord Zwingli a moment to calm down to some extent before continuing the investigation.

"Will you now tell us why you were mourning Lord Edelstein?"

Lord Zwingli glared yet again but sighed in defeat. Arthur was yet again impressed, in a matter of hours Francis was able to get out much more valuable information from the Switzerland siblings than the British Police Department.

"I didn't see who did it." Lord Zwingli admitted. "However I did see him get stabbed."

Arthur nodded and took note of it.

"Go on."

"That day I went to go see Roderick; I don't know why I just went." Lord Zwingli explained. "I came by the entrance and saw movement in the piano room. I saw Roderick covered in blood and then a flash of silver…it might have been the knife but it didn't seem like it…"

_A flash of silver._

Francis winced and held his head. Arthur quickly finished writing down what Lord Zwingli witnessed and noticed that his partner seemed in pain.

"Are you—"

_A fire._

"I'm fine." Francis interrupted. He took out his pills, "I just need to take my medicine."

He swallowed them whole. The images and head pain died down.

"What did you do after you saw that?" Francis asked clearing his throat.

"At first I didn't know what to do." Lord Zwingli continued moving away from the wall and started to walk in circles. "I didn't know if I should go in and help or if I should just ignore the whole thing. I ended up running back home. Once I was back I needed to calm down so I went for a long walk wondering what had I just done and if I'd actually seen what I thought I did. By the time I was back, supper was soon and Lili was finishing what she was making. The rest you already know."

Arthur finished noting everything down and placed the note pad in his pocket. Just as the Brit was about to speak the clocks in the estate struck twelve signalling noon. The clocks sang for a full minute before dying down.

"Thank you for your time." Arthur thanked with a light bow as did Francis.

"You gave us good information," Francis congratulated in his own way, "Because of you we can now get a step closer to catching the perp."

Lord Zwingli rolled his eyes and gestured the door with his chin. "Let us know when you find him or her."

Francis and Arthur left the establishment; the driver was outside smoking while waiting for them. He quickly finished his smoke and jumped into the car as the two walked over.

"You have one hell of a talent." Arthur complimented, "You got legitimate information out of him whilst we pestered him for a full month without any progress."

"Of course, unlike the British the French have ways when dealing with people." Francis purred followed by a soft chuckle.

Arthur blushed darkly and hit Francis. "Damned frog!"

Francis chuckled louder and quickly fixed his hair, "I hope you know where we're headed after this."

Arthur's whole face was now flushed. "N-not your—"

"Don't be stupid," Francis interrupted as he opened the door for Arthur, "That can wait for later. We're going back to Lord Edelstein's mansion and investigating for that silver flash."

"It could have been the knife." Arthur reminded.

"Now you're just being influenced by my procrastination." Francis laughed, "There are still chances that it wasn't and if it isn't, it could turn out to be one hell of a lead."

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><p>* Fun fact about old cars that you probably already knew: The first cars that were created were very small and uncomfortable. The ride was always hell since there were very few well paved roads.<p>

** They're in French

*** You piss me off.

**** I see that you do know a certain degree of courtesy . Listen, answer my questions without delay and we'll be gone before you know it.

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><p>So I thought it would be more obvious that it was an author's comment when I put it in bold on the top but yea xD So next chapter...well I'm going to have to think a little harder about what ELSE is going to happen in it ;p Maybe some smutt to take space...I unno lol xD<p>

Again, nothing to much to say so SEE YOU NEXT CHAPTER OR IN ANOTHER STORY!

EDIT: You guys need to fucking praise Saemi67 she's been helping me out with my French A LOT (even if I am bilingual but Canadian French is much different than France French...) SO PRAISE HER!


	9. A Silver Flash

**Forever later, this chapter comes out. It was supposed to be longer and be titled _Lord Gilbert Weillschmidt_ but as you'll figure out for obvious reasons, that'll be the name for the next chapter.**

**Confession ?: I don't know at what confession I'm at.**

**I won't keep you any longer, here's the next chapter of Detective Bonnefoy! ENJOY!**

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><p>The car ride to the Edelstein mansion was known to be short but the silence weighing in the car had given it the impression of lasting hours, especially for Arthur. From time to time, he would glance over to Francis waiting for their eyes to cross and for the Frenchman to make a sexual comment. However, the sexual comment that would provoke a conversation never came; Francis was too enwrapped in his thoughts to pay attention to his surroundings. When Arthur had come to that conclusion, he found himself starring at his partner.<p>

_How painful is it to lose someone you love…?_ Arthur wondered.

Arthur fixed Francis and for a moment, his mind was invaded by an imagine of Francis with a woman. They were happy; he was smiling and had a faint blush on his face, holding the hand of a woman that was a few inches shorter. She was smiling back with the same amount of love and happiness and her eyes twinkled beautifully. What had stricken Arthur about the image he had imagined was the reality of it all and the breathtaking portrait Francis and that woman had made.

They were so beautiful.

They were so happy.

"Are you okay?" Francis asked pocking Arthur's forehead. "You seem upset."

Arthur blushed and pushed Francis's hand away, "I'm perfectly fine!" He retorted.

Francis grinned lightly, "All right then," The taller blonde leaned back on his seat and starred at the thick greenery rolling by on the other side of the car's window. His grinned softened into a smile, "This is a curious case, isn't it?"

"I'll need to disagree on that," Arthur admitted, "Murder is quite a natural yet cruel thing, especially with rich folk."

"That's not what I meant…" Francis paused, "For some reason…I feel as if I can relate to it…as if this case is déjà_-vue_…"

Arthur turned his gaze to the forest they were passing through, "Now why would you say that?"

"I'm not sure…" Francis chuckled softly and looked over at Arthur, "Maybe it's one of those cases that a detective can relate to, a case that will not as much change their life as…awaken it."

"You're sounding poetic…" Arthur muttered.

"Hm…this case is making progress…" Francis changed the subject. "Do you remember where Lord Zwingli said he saw that silver flash?"

Arthur turned to Francis and gaze him an odd look, "the piano room you dunce. How could you forget that?"

"Slipped my mind," Francis confessed, "Now do you did simulate the test all those months ago, am I right?"

Arthur nodded.

"Good, now I hope you remember them because we're going to need to do it again." Francis started to explain. "We'll also need Feliciano's help."

"What are you planning?" Arthur asked.

"Lord Zwingli said that the silver flash he saw could have just been the knife," Francis continued, "Now we'll simulate it again with Feliciano acting as the murder and one of us as Lord Zwingli to see if it was the knife or something else."

"All right, that seems proper." Arthur nodded.

"_Proper_?" The Frenchman repeated with a smirk, "You were expecting my reasoning to be sexual?"

"To be honest, yes." Arthur answered resisted a small smile.

"Hm…"

Silence invaded the car but luckily, they had arrived to their destination. The police officers were still around but less than before. At the entrance was Mister Ludwig speaking with Feliciano, both of them noticed the detectives as they stepped out of the car. Mister Ludwig flinched and seemed to have cut the conversation short; he left the Italian of a hurried step.

Mister Ludwig passed Francis and Arthur with a nod and stopped, "I'm sorry about my brother." He apologized, "I don't know what came over him, I hope he was cooperative with your investigation?"

"Honestly, he wasn't just like the first time…" Arthur reminded with a laugh.

Mister Ludwig seemed embarrassed. "I'm terribly sorry; I'll have a talk with him…" He assured, "It's unfair for you as for Roderick."

"Thank you."

"Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be on my way."

The three exchanged head bows and Mister Ludwig left. Slowly, the two detectives wandered to the mansion, Feliciano still waiting for them.

"_Ciao_, what are you doing here this afternoon?" Feliciano asked with a small, friendly smile.

"We've gotten some new information," Francis admitted bluntly earning a slap in the back of the head, courtesy of Arthur, "We'd like to do a re-enactment and we need your help."

"Oh... What exactly would I be doing?" Feliciano asked.

"This might be touchy but we need you to be the murder…" Francis explained slowly.

Feliciano remained quiet for a moment, starring into empty space before slowly nodding. "If it contributes to finding Mister Roderick's murderer and appeasing Madam Elizaveta's sorrow, then I'll do it." Feliciano agreed with the flame of determination burning in his eyes.

"Good, now Arthur will guide you to where you'll begin your walk towards the mansion," Francis explained as he started to walk away, "He will also tell you the signal so you know when to start walking."

"Wait! What will you be doing!" Arthur quickly called.

Francis waved his hand as he walked away, "I'll be getting our necessities."

Francis wandered inside the mansion slowly and with every step he took, he started to perceive a different home around him. The walls decorated with various paintings where no longer made of marble but of oak, the perfectly polished wooden floor disappeared into one made of rough tiles that weren't necessarily uncomfortable for the feet and the fancy lanterns morphed into scented waxed candles dimly lighting the halls.

As Francis made his way to the kitchen in this odd but familiar place, the sweet scent of baking made itself known to him. Nearing the kitchen with every time-consuming step, certain to find a woman he truly loved inside, his heart pounding, to his dismay, he found a man.

Lord Weillschmidt.

"What are you doing here?" He asked bitterly.

For a moment, Francis remained dumfound. The home his mind had created vanished into the real one, yet he couldn't understand why he was expecting a woman, especially one that he loved.

"I…" Francis paused looking around, "I came to get a knife."

The Frenchman wandered into the kitchen and started fishing through the cupboards and drawers when he spotted a perfectly usable steak knife.

"May I ask why?" Lord Weillschmidt probed, clearly annoyed with Francis's presence.

"You may." Answered the former.

"Why?" Spat the silver haired lord.

Francis examined the knife carefully mainly judging the intensity of the shine. Lord Weillschmidt, on the verge of eruption repeated his question three times.

"You may ask all you want, Lord Weillschmidt, as I permitted," Francis spoke with a grin, "However, I won't necessarily answer your question."

Lord Weillschmidt glared death at him, "Get out of my house."

"Sadly, I can not comply since this establishment does not belong to you." Francis retorted with a victorious smile. "However, I must now leave your most welcoming presence to continue my investigating. _Ont s'appelle et ont déjeune.*_"

Lord Weillschmidt was at lost of words and could only think of dire curses as the French detective left the room.

Heading towards the piano room, Francis encountered Arthur who hurried to explain to him how the re-inaction would work.

"We're going to fake it twice from three angles –" Arthur began before Francis interrupted him.

"Why twice?"

"The closer you get to the mansion, the less you see in the piano room." Arthur explained, "We don't necessarily know how close or far Lord Zwingli was so it's best we try it like this."

Francis nodded. As they reached the piano room, just a few steps from the entrance, the Edelstein mansion converted into the familiar house of before. His step slowed at this unexpected yet troubling change before a tune could be heard.

A familiar, sad, ballade.

Again, the man was expecting the woman he loved to be seated at the piano, playing the heart wrenching song but as he stepped in, reality crashed on Francis's shoulders and the empty room was made evident.

"Are you okay?" Arthur asked.

Francis nodded, "Yea…" He took the spare pills out of his pocket and swallowed a few, "I forgot to take my pills, I should be fine now."

Arthur starred at Francis emptily before shaking his head. "I assume you'll be killing me?"

"I will." Francis smirked showing the knife.

Arthur rolled his eyes and placed himself in front of the window. "Now take your position so we can get this over with."

Francis moved in front of Arthur and starred at the Brit as he gave the signal for Feliciano to move forward. After a few steps, Arthur turned to Francis and nodded for him to pretend kill him. Francis jumped him at the signal and pretended to stab him alerting some of the police officers who had seen from Feliciano's shared perspective. Just like Arthur had told him to, Feliciano stopped walking and starred at the window in wait for the signal.

Between two windows, Francis had quickly locked his lips with Arthur's. The latter was fighting for separation and only got it once Francis had decided it to be so. With a large blush on his face, Arthur slapped Francis and rubbed the kiss from his mouth.

"Bloody frog…"

Brouhaha exploded into the confines of the Edelstein mansion and directed itself to the piano room. Before either of the detectives knew what was going on, a dozen officers spilled in the room, their firearms pointed at Francis ordering him to drop his knife.

"What the bloody hell is going on!" Arthur yelled annoyed.

"Detective Kirkland, are you all right?" They all asked at once.

"Of course I'm bloody all right! Now shut the bloody hell up and explain yourselves!" Arthur roared enraged.

"You used _bloody_ about four times." Francis joked.

Arthur slapped him before pushing him aside, "What the bloody hell did I just say! Put your bloody guns down you sods and explain yourselves!" He hissed.

All of the officers exchanged looks, "Detective…you aren't hurt…"

"Of course I'm not bloody hurt, why would I be!"

"Seven." Francis counted.

"We saw him stab you from the window, detective, we thought…"

"I've heard enough." Arthur interrupted with a switch hand motion. "We're re-enacting the death of Lord Edelstein with the help of Mister Feliciano Vergas."

"Ooh." Sighed all the officers in chore as they lowered their weapons and exchanged looks.

"That's why he—"

"With the maid—"

"And the knife—"

"Pretend stabbing—"

"Right, right. Now go back to work and let us continue our investigation." Arthur shooed them off with another hand motion and one by one, they left the room.

Arthur pushed Francis back into position in front of the window. The Frenchman spotted Feliciano from the window and smiled waving at him. The Italian maid smiled widely and waved back before they continued their re-enactment.

* * *

><p>"Now the first angle was coming in from our right. From afar, what did you see?" Arthur asked ready to write.<p>

"I could see you both from head to waist," Feliciano started, "I also saw the knife flash when Mister Francis attacked."

"And when you were closer?" Francis asked.

"I could only see your heads and part of your shoulders. The knife wasn't visible." Feliciano answered truthfully. "It was the same thing from the two other angles."

Arthur stopped writing and rested his pen next to his note pad. He starred at Francis expectantly, "Well? Blocked now are we?"

"We don't know how close Lord Zwingli was," Francis recapped. "From the all the angles but far away, Mister Feliciano was able to see the both of us and the knife…"

"Which means we've walked into a dead end because when he was closer, Feliciano was only able to see our heads and shoulders." Arthur stated in a frustrated tone trying to think of what could possibly be their next move.

"_Sega.._.**" Feliciano apologized.

"Don't be." Francis reassured, "Now Arthur…tell me, who do you know has _silver hair_?"

Both, Feliciano's and Arthur's eyes widened as they exchanged looks. Arthur was excited to realise that the lead wasn't dead after all, but Feliciano was horrified at the idea Francis was clearly suggesting.

_A fire._

_A silver flash_.

"Lord Gilbert Weillschmidt."

* * *

><p>* I don't know how to translate that properly but the best I can do is: "<em>Let's call each other and eat breakfast<em>" which sounds weird but it's one the French equivalent of "_I'll see you later_."

**I'm sorry in Italian (correct me if I'm wrong)

* * *

><p><strong>And so you have finally discovered why this chapter is called <strong>_A Silver Flash _**instead of **_Lord Gilbert Weillschmidt. _

**So, if some people are curious about how many more chapters there will be to this story (I have the feeling I already answered that question) well, I can't say for sure (so if I mentionned it before, I'm probably wrong or was lying). **

**The reason I'm saying this is partly for me but for others too, now the main suspect you should all be considering is, well, Gilbert. However, for all you know, it may NOT be him and I'm not saying this to throw any of you off or steathily admit that the murder is not him. It could be.**

**Am I making sense?**

**Well I confused my self .**

**All to say that a few more characters are going to come in, yadda yadda yadda so don't get ahead of yourselves! ;P**

**SEE YOU NEXT CHAPTER!**


	10. Lord Gilbert Weillschmidt

I won't even begin describing how long it took me to actually write and finish this chapter.

I had a partial writer's block, I couldn't come up with the way to begin the fucking chapter but FINALLY, I managed. In enter four new characters! One that will probably never be seen again due to his unimportanci-ness...(that word totally exists...)

Anyways, Sherlock Holmes (the new one that came out a few months ago) has developped into a new (ish) sort of inspiration...kay so it was more like the end of the movie that I liked. So anyways, I don't think I have much more to say so ENJOY THIS RATHER LONG CHAPTER!

* * *

><p>"Not Lord Gilbert…" Feliciano mumbled incredulously. "H-he's a good person…he's taking such good care of Miss Elizaveta…"<p>

"That doesn't necessarily mean he's off the hook…" Arthur stated as he pondered other things that could be held against Lord Weillschmidt. "In addition, the fact that he won't cooperate with our investigation doesn't help his case."

"M-maybe I can talk with him? Just like Ludwig's doing—"

"Feliciano, please," Francis interrupted softly, "We know this may not be easy for you to accept but we need you to keep cooperating and hold your tongue. Lord Weillschmidt is just a suspect at the moment, our prime suspect, perhaps there's another suspect we haven't encountered yet."

"B-but you've spoken with all of us, we haven't lied," Feliciano reminded in an almost desperate tone. "We wouldn't lie, not even the Zwingli, we all want Mister Roderick's murderer to be brought to justice…"

Francis placed a comforting hand on Feliciano's shoulder, "Calm down for a minute," Francis smiled as he paused, "We haven't spoken to everyone yet. The information we probably value most is stored in a stubborn German lord."

"Oh…right…" The Italian maid remembered, "I-I'm sure he'll talk to you soon…he's still deeply affected by the loss of Mister Roderick…"

Arthur nodded, "It's rather normal—" Arthur paused abruptly and took out his pocket watch, something Francis had never noticed, and looked at the time, and "…It seems you'll have to excuse me, I need to be on my way."

"Why? Where are you going?" Francis asked surprised that he wasn't informed ahead of time.

"I have a meeting with our forensics scientist, he's going to brief me again on the wounds found on Lord Edelstein's body as well as suggest a few more weapons that could have caused them." Arthur explained as he left the presence of Feliciano and Francis.

"Shouldn't I come along?" Francis asked taking a step forward.

"No, I'll just give you the important details when I come back," Arthur waved, "Alfred tends to beat around the bush and mention stupid things that are a waste of time more than anything. You can concentrate on getting information out of Lord Weillschmidt while I'm gone."

The conversation finished suddenly and Arthur had left in the taxi that had been waiting ever since their arrival at the Edelstein mansion. Francis starred in the direction Arthur had left, confused. The Frenchman was convinced there was something his partner wasn't telling him.

"If you would like, I can escort you to Lord Gilbert." Feliciano suggested.

Francis nodded and followed Feliciano to Lord Weillschmidt's chamber, which was empty. They had concluded that if he was not in his room, perhaps he was by Lady Hédéváry's side, distracting her from the thought of her deceased fiancé. When they had arrived to Lady Hédéváry's room, they found her sound asleep in her large bed, alone.

"It seems he has left…" Francis whispered as he closed the door.

"Come to think of it, he had mentioned, earlier, that he had a business meeting with a Russian man." Feliciano remembered aloud.

"Damn…" The Frenchman swore, it was evident he would have to wait for Lord Weillschmidt's return.

"Would you like to come help me cook while you wait for Lord Gilbert to come back?" Feliciano suggested.

Francis sighed and nodded, "Sure."

The blonde detective followed Feliciano into the kitchen where the latter suggested they make something French for Lady Hédéváry, which would be a change from the usual British or Italian food. As they cooked and baked, Francis got to know Feliciano and had decided he liked the boy. The Italian was kind, caring, optimistic, cheerful, a little air headed and a generally good person.

"Hey, Feliciano?"

"_Si_?"

"Why is it you refer to Lord Edelstein as Mister Roderick and to Lord Weillschmidt as Lord Gilbert?" Francis asked as he batted the cake dough.

"Mister Roderick is my boss as he is a friend," Feliciano explained as he began to make the chocolate icing. "It's the same for Madam Elizaveta but being a servant, I feel obligated to add _Madam_ or _Mister_ in front of their names even if they told me it wasn't necessary. Lord Gilbert was introduced to me as, well, Lord Gilbert, which is partly why I refer to him as such but also because he never gave me permission to use his name in a friendly matter."

"I take it Lord Weillschmidt isn't quite fond of you?" Francis asked more than stated.

"It seems to be so," the Italian laughed softly, "However, I see it as normal. Unlike Madam Elizaveta and Mister Roderick, he hasn't always been in my surroundings so he hasn't necessarily warmed up to me. Also, we're in different worlds; he's at the head of the Weillschmidt family and he's charged with so many burdening tasks to keep his business going and his family name alive. I, on the other hand, am a servant who merely cleans and cooks."

Francis paused, "That doesn't sound very much like something you would seem to say…" Francis admitted, "No offence."

"None taken," Feliciano smiled, "It's something Mister Roderick told me when I was upset about Lord Gilbert having yelled at me."

"He yelled at you?" Francis repeated, surprised.

Feliciano nodded as he carried the chocolate icing to the refrigerator, "You already know about me and Ludwig, right?" Francis noticed a small blush appear on the Italian's cheeks as he asked the question. Francis nodded, "Our relationship started a while back and when Lord Gilbert found out, he got really mad. He surprised us together and pushed me away. He yelled things mean things, saying stuff like I was only pretending to like Ludwig because I wanted his money or that I was trying to sabotage their family."

"Wow, that's kind of hardcore…" Francis mumbled as he began pouring the cake mix into a mold, "And you still call him a good person after that?"

Feliciano chuckled lightly as he nodded, "Lord Gilbert is just an overprotective brother," he explained, "Ludwig had a talk with him, he told him that we loved each other and that I would never betray him. A few weeks later, Lord Gilbert apologized for his outburst and gave me his blessing to be with Ludwig."

"He sure seems hot headed, but I'm glad things ended well." Francis affirmed.

"_Grazie_," Feliciano giggled.

Arthur had arrived at the location where he was to meet Alfred. He had called him last minute, once he arrived at police head quarters, to give him the rendezvous location and time. He had also hung up before the American had anytime to complain.

Arthur sipped on a hot cup of Earl Grey tea buried in his thoughts. Recently, Francis had seemed much more forgetful about important things as he seemed to space out more and more. The Brit was convinced this had something to do with the pills he was taking to forget his greatest love, Jeanne.

"A-Al I really don't think I should be here if you're going to talk about the murder case with Arthur…" Matthew's familiar shy voice resonated in the small café.

"Don't worry Mattie; I wouldn't bring you here if you weren't allowed." Alfred laughed, dragging his lover with him to Arthur.

Arthur sighed as he stood to greet Alfred and Matthew. "Good day to you both." Arthur nodded.

"Yep," Alfred answered with a wide grin as he pulled a chair and sat down, "Now what did you wanna talk about?"

"I want to talk about the pills you stole," Arthur answered glaring.

Alfred jolted and slowly turned his head to face Matthew who immediately smacked his forehead.

"You just can't stop teasing him." Matthew nagged, "I want you to give them back to him. They're probably some sort of important medication; do you want to worsen his condition?"

Alfred held his forehead, "B-but it's not—"

At that same moment, a tall man with spiky hair wearing a scarf entered the café catching both of the North American's attentions.

"What's he doing here?" Alfred hissed.

"Knowing you would drag me somewhere you were meant to present yourself alone, I called Lars to come site seeing with me." Matthew answered; he then turned to address Arthur, "I'm sorry for all the trouble Al is causing you."

"It's quite all right, I'm just sorry I'm ruining your trip with him," Arthur smiled.

Matthew returned it, "You got to do what you got to do, and right now there's nothing more important for the both of you to bring peace to the victims of the current crime."

With a wave, he left accompanied by Lars, which clearly enraged Alfred.

"Damn it, I really hate that guy!" Alfred hissed, "He obviously wants to steal Mattie from me!"

"That would be rather upsetting," Arthur agreed, "because there would then be no one to control you."

"Hardy har-har." Alfred growled sarcastically as he slumped into his seat, "you called at the worse time to! I was just about to get it on with him! And do you know how passionate Mattie is about me contributing to solving a case do to my forensics awesomeness? Very! It's horrible!"

"Regardless, the pills, I want them back and I want to know more." Arthur demanded changing the subject.

"No and sure, in order of your questions," Alfred answered pouring himself some tea, "Since the pills are illegal drugs we have to dispose of them which is what I did."

Arthur froze and glared at Alfred, "You better be joking."

Alfred shook his head, "Sorry but it's how things work and you know it."

Arthur grit his teeth and thought about what he would say to Francis about the pills. He pondered if it was a bad thing or a good thing however there seemed to be more bad than good.

"You're an idiot! I can't believe you would do something like that!" Arthur hissed.

"Hey, don't get mad at me, it's not my fault that drug is illegal." Alfred defended poorly which only seemed to add to Arthur's rage, "Anyhow, do you want me to tell you about the drug or not?"

With a deep and annoyed sigh, Arthur gestured Alfred to go on and explain.

"Good, now as you already know the drug provokes memory loss," The American forensics' scientist began, "It's origin is currently unknown but under investigation; as for the complete effect and side effects, those are unknown as well."

"That's completely useless! You're useless!" Arthur snapped.

"Hey, calm down!" Alfred raised his voice, "the fact we barely know shit all about that drug is good enough proof that the thing's dangerous!"

"I need specific information about it, Alfred!" Arthur growled putting emphasis on the _specific_.

"Why are you suddenly so interested in it?" Alfred asked annoyed with Arthur's attitude.

"Because Francis is acting bizarre, more than usual!" Arthur snapped.

The Brit quickly covered his mouth seeing that he said something he shouldn't have. This hadn't been dismissed to Alfred, he was curious and slightly worried.

"What do you mean?"

Arthur paused, "He's forgetting…more than he was supposed to."

"That's too vague! Be more specific!" Alfred snapped to his turn.

"He's forgetting the case! Like…like important details that he should never forget!" Arthur specified, "He's spacing out a lot too! His mind is always somewhere else!"

Alfred leaned comfortably in his chair and breathed deeply, "You can't go assuming it's the drug for little things like that…"

"It's abnormal for him! It has to be the drug—"

"Arthur, I understand you're worried," Alfred interrupted calmly, "I was too when I spotted those drugs, but now that they're away the effects can slowly fade and he can go back to being normal."

"That's…look, he needs them okay? It's not that simple…" Arthur growled and buried his head in his hands, "It's not up to you to decide whether he gets to keep them or not! Would you want to remember losing someone close to you? Someone like Matthew?"

Alfred thought about what Arthur was suggesting hypothetically before answering, "I think I rather remember compared to forgetting…no matter how painful." He answered slowly, "Because, even though I remember the cruel way I lost him, I can also remember all those fun times I had with him…"

"All hearts differ from one another," Arthur stated, "You rather remember, he, Francis, prefers the opposite, he prefers forgetting, he –"

"Arthur, are you in love with him?" Alfred interrupted.

"What are you—"

"It sounds like you absolutely want the pills back for his sake, but it also seems like you're doing it for selfish reasons like the one I'm suggesting, to have him to yourself."

"T-trying to be a comedian are we?" Arthur asked.

"No. I'm being serious. Do you want him all to yourself? Is that why you're insisting so much on them, the pills?"

"I…"

"_Sorreisa_*!" Feliciano cheered as Lady Hédéváry awoke.

"Oh my…What is all this?" She asked baffled.

Surrounding her were plates of various French sweets and meals that smelled delicious and probably tasted as marvelous as they appeared.

Feliciano giggled happily, "Mister Francis helped me make them, he's pretty talented in the kitchen."

Lady Hédéváry looked at the entrance of her room and saw Francis leaning against the doorframe, staring out one of the large windows.

"_K__öszönöm_*** detective." Lady Hédéváry thanked softly, "And thank you too Feli."

Feliciano smiled brightly, the joy he found in seeing his mistress pleased with his cooking was evident and adorable.

"Say…why do you not eat all this food with me, there is clearly too much for one person to eat alone." Lady Hédéváry suggested.

"_Si!_" Feliciano cheered and jumped to Lady Hédéváry's side.

"You too detective, I'm sure you're curious about the results." Lady Hédéváry insisted.

Francis found it difficult to resist her sweet face and agreed; he sat on the edge of the bed and ate with them.

"Lady Hédéváry, I hope you don't mind me asking but…" Francis paused to let her swallow the chocolate pastries she had devoured, "Would you know when Lord Weillschmidt will return?"

"Has he been helping you effectively?" Lady Hédéváry asked but continued before Francis could answer, "I am sure he has, he wants to bring the murderer to justice as much as I…we all do."

Lady Hédéváry seemed momentarily upset, which made Francis regret asking his question.

"Ah, but your question," Lady Hédéváry suddenly remembered, "Gilbert told me he was having a very important meeting with his most influential associate, so there are chances that he will not come back until very late tonight…"

"Damn…I wish I'd known sooner…" Francis cussed to himself.

"_Scusi_…***" Feliciano apologized feeling bad.

"O-oh don't worry," Francis quickly reassured, "I mean, I had fun but now Arthur's going to nag me about not interviewing Lord Weillschmidt."

Feliciano exchanged looks with Lady Hédéváry before smiling to one another. "You act oddly like a married couple, you and your partner." Lady Hédéváry giggled.

Francis blushed lightly, "Y-you think so?"

Feliciano nodded, "_Si_, it's very fun to watch sometimes…"

"I-I'm not sure on what to say…" Francis laughed at lost of words.

"Oh, it is not an insult…" Lady Hédéváry assured, "Actually, it was meant to be seen as a complement more than anything."

"In that case, thank you." The Frenchman thanked with a sincere smile.

There was a moment of silence in the room afterwards. Lady Hédéváry seemed to be contemplating on whether she should speak her mind or not. Finally, she chose to.

"Detective?" She asked.

"_Oui_?"

"Do you believe in the supernatural?" The Hungarian widow asked.

"I'm not sure…" Francis admitted.

"I have a friend, he is currently in the London Chinatown, maybe he can help you," Lady Hédéváry quickly explained throwing in all she wanted to say at once, "Pardon me," She shook her head redeeming herself, "I have a friend, his name is Yao Wang and regardless his commoner appearances, he's the most powerful man in China. However, he was blessed with a gift, a gift that allowed him to peak into the future of others; perhaps he can help you find clues to solving the case?"

"Using a seer is something that is shunned upon in our domain, it is said that what they foresee can not be trusted." Francis explained bluntly, "But seeing as the case is developing in a slow pace, having a pointer or two from a fortuneteller couldn't hurt."

Lady Hédéváry smiled brightly, "Oh wondrous news!" She cheered happily, "From what I've heard he's saying at the _Dīpankara_****, if not, you can ask around. He's rather famous there."

Francis nodded and fished through his pockets for a notepad he had never used to write down the information. He had the feeling if he didn't, he would forget.

Just as he finished writing down the information, an unexpected figured appeared.

"Elizaveta, care to explain why this man is here?" Lord Weillschmidt hissed.

Lady Hédéváry smiled, which took Lord Weillschmidt by surprised and caused him to relax slightly. "Gilbert, detective has been awaiting your return, says he has some more questions for you." She informed.

Lord Weillschmidt paused and glared at Francis, "I see…" He waved for Francis to follow, "the come detective let us retreat to somewhere private for the interrogation."

"Hey Feli, let's keep eating." Lady Hédéváry declared more than anything as she demolished more of the food brought to her.

Feliciano giggled and continued to eat as well mumbling a comment about how Lady Hédéváry could eat, without a problem, all of the cooking on her own.

As Francis walked behind Lord Weillschmidt, he noticed that the German was bringing him to the entrance of the mansion.

"I thank you for returning the smile to her lips," Lord Weillschmidt grumbled, "However; I must now ask you to leave."

"Will do," Francis nodded, "After you've answered my questions, of course."

Lord Weillschmidt glared but remained silent as he gestured towards the door.

"You know," Francis sighed deciding to use a different tactic, "Lady Hédéváry told me how much you lied about helping with the case. I haven't told her the contrary…yet…"

Lord Weillschmidt was caught off guard and was forced to think the situation over only to be pushed to do what he hadn't want to do.

"Fine." He hissed, "What do you want to know?"

"What exactly happened on the day of the murder?" Francis asked.

"Roderick died." Lord Weillschmidt answered.

Francis stared at the German albino unimpressed, "If you're going to have that attitude with me, Lord Weillschmidt, I might as well go tell the truth to Lady Hédéváry." The Frenchman warned.

"Tsk. Why does it matter what I have to say?" Lord Weillschmidt complained. "You've already gotten more than enough information from Elizaveta, Luddy and the maid."

"I take it you're not fond of Feliciano?" Francis interrogated.

"Why the hell should I?" Lord Weillschmidt growled, "He's a cross-dressing, gold digging whore that's duped Elizaveta and Luddy. They just don't see it."

"Why would you think that?" Francis pushed feeling somewhat irritated that anyone could hate someone as pure hearted as Feliciano.

Lord Weillschmidt was visibly enwrapped in his rage but suddenly calmed down, "This hasn't anything to do with your investigation." The young albino lord stated.

"Indeed it does not, my apologies." Francis apologized, "However, I will still need you to answer my first question."

"I already did."

"Add details."

Lord Weillschmidt sighed deeply and rolled his eyes. "Roderick and I were in the piano room, he was playing something by Chopin, the usual," The German lord paused to see if he could get off the hook with this bit of information, but soon realized he couldn't and continued, "I left the room for a minute…"

"Why?" Francis inquired.

Lord Weillschmidt gave him an annoyed glare, "I had a wedding gift for him." He answered.

"Really? Mister Ludwig informed me that he went shopping for one for the both of you." Francis stated thinking he caught the Lord in a lie.

"He did, however I had my own. One that was more personal." Lord Weillschmidt specified, "I assume it was stolen from me, I couldn't find it when I was looking through my bags."

"What was your…_gift_?" Francis asked.

"My _gift_," Lord Weillschmidt responded with the same emphasis on the word gift, "was a picture of the three of us as children and a pocket watch that was given a generation after the other in my family."

Francis made a mental note that he would have to ask Ludwig about the pocket watch later, "All right, and what happened after that?"

"I heard the commotion and just as I was about to run out the door to help, I noticed it was closed." Lord Weillschmidt continued, "I never closed the door. When I tried to open it, I realized it was locked from the outside by what I later discovered was a chair. By the time I broke out and ran to Roderick, Elizaveta and the maid were already there and my best friend was dead."

Again, there was that rude reference to Feliciano. Francis took a deep breath and just as he was about to ask another question, the doors to the house were thrown open and in walked the tallest man Francis had even seen.

The man's eyes were composed of flawless amethysts but also depicted a cold, merciless winter of empty smiles and broken dreams. The stranger's skin consisted of the mentioned winter's snow but also of its ice as a shield of his person. A dark grey, almost black, fur hat sat upon his head covering a majority of the paled blond – nearing white – hair which matched with the thick, ancient seeming, coat.

The stranger leaned on his old fashion, wooden, cane which contained the double-headed eagle found on the Russian emblem. He smiled a chilly smile sending shivers down the surprised men's spine before speaking with a heavy Russian accent.

"You'll have to excuse my sudden intrusion, _Chibipu_*****, but it was not known to me that you had a guest, da." He announced stepping in and making way for two women to enter the room along his side.

Both of them were dressed the same way as the stranger, their hair resembled his however they had distinguishing characteristics. The eldest of the two had large breasts, very large, that could barely be contained in the thick cloak. Her eyes were not of amethysts but of pale topazes, however they still portrayed that heartless winter. Unlike the two others, she wore a smile on her face that did not fade conversely it remained lifeless and fake, as if she was just smiling to smile.

The youngest had long hair and partially visible colorless ribbon hidden under the fur hat. She had a stone expression that was reflected in her mauve eyes, yet again reflecting that violent winter, and confirmed with her frown. What was most intriguing about her character was this aura of violence and pain surrounding her, as if this winter found in each and every one of them was being manifested through her. However, this assumption was made without seeing the first stranger's true colours.

"What in blazes are you doing here?" Lord Weillschmidt hissed; a detectible tint of familiarity evident in his voice.

"I decided to come over and express my sympathies to the lovely Lady Hédéváry," The large man answered politely. "Perhaps it is a little late, seeing as the passing of my dearest friend was a month or so ago, da."

Lord Weillschmidt glared and just as he was about to speak, the intruder quickly added:

"Da, I have also come to remind her of the large debt her fiancé has towards the Braginski Cooperation of which are getting impatient of receiving."

Francis repeated the company name that was mentioned in his head over and over until he remembered. The man standing in front of him was Ivan Braginski, the most powerful man in the great country of Russia and the two women with him were his sisters, Katyusha Braginski, the elder of the three, and Natalya Braginski, the youngest of the three.

It was rumored that the Braginski family also lived an underground life and was in total control of the criminal activity occurring a little everywhere in the world. Naturally, rumors will be rumors, but in the case of the Braginski family, the impression and attitude they gave off not to mention their lack of stealthiest in their criminal activity proved the gossip to be true.

Ivan Braginski leaned slightly towards Lord Weillschmidt as if he were to whisper something to him but spoke loudly enough, purposely, for all to hear. "I've noticed the presence of a detective, the renowned French detective Francis Bonnefoy," He glanced at Francis for a brief moment and concentrated his icy stare on Lord Weillschmidt, "If you've decided to abandon our agreement, I am afraid that I will not be able to hold my end of the bargain as well. Beautiful photographs of your most prized secrets will flutter all over Germany, Russia, England and North America. I am making myself clear aren't I, Chibipu, da?"

Francis didn't fail to notice Lord Weillschmidt's slight trembling of fear. "U-uh…" Francis finally spoke, "What's this I hear about Lord Edelstein's debt?"

Ivan shifted his gaze to Francis.

"Vanya…I sense something odd in this one." Katyusha spoke.

Slowly and awkwardly, faced the eldest of the Braginski. Her livid eyes scanned Francis and slowly she reached out and touched his cheek.

"U-uh…" Francis sounded unable to speak.

Katyusha cupped his cheek when tears started to pour out of her eyes.

"A lost soul wanders our way, Vanya." Natalya spoke for her sister, "His memory has been afflicted…"

Natalya gently pulled Katyusha away and caressed her as their brother resumed business.

"It seems that Katyusha took a significant interest in you detective." Ivan smirked standing straight. "As for the debt you questioned, for business reasons, our Austrian friend borrowed money which he had yet to repay. Now he is deceased and the money lend from the generous Braginski family is not returned. Someone has to answer and since Lady Hédéváry is to inherit her fiancé's everything, she has been selected."

"Does it have to be now…?" Francis asked. "Lady Hédéváry is still suffering from the loss of Lord Edelstein."

"Da, the Braginski are very punctual, waiting is not and has never been an option." Ivan informed, "I will retrieve the money on its due date one way or another."

"Right well," Lord Weillschmidt took a step forward and rudely gestured the door, "You'll get your money when the time comes – in three more weeks – until then I must ask you to leave for I have a guest."

"Perhaps I misheard you, did you not say that the detective was leaving?" Ivan inquired with an amused grin.

"You have misheard me," Lord Weillschmidt repeated in a snobby tone and grabbed Francis's arm, "my close friend, Francis, is accompanying me to dinner."

"So be it, we shall return another day." Ivan announced and left followed by his sisters who's gazes were locked upon Francis's.

"To forget one's purpose is the commonest form of stupidity." Natalya whispered to the detective before the door closed.

There was a moment of silence between the two men facing the door before Francis sighed deeply and passed a hand through his hair.

"What the hell was all that about?"

* * *

><p><em><strong>END OF ACT I<strong>_

* * *

><p>* Surprise in Italian (correct me if I'm wrong)<p>

** Thank you in Hungarian.

*** Sorry in Italian.

**** _Dīpankara_ isn't actually the name of some hotel in the London China town, actually _Dīpankara_, from the Buddhist 'religion', is the Buddha of the Past and is also the smaller of the three Buddha being _Shakyamuni_ (present) and _Maitreya_ (future). It's a bit ironic having someone who reveals the future in a hotel named after the Buddha of the past. xP

***** So if this is known to you…well good for you, what do you want me to say? xD Anyways, for those who don't know, Chibipu is the nickname given to Chibi Prussia. I was looking for a nickname for Gilbert and found that. Originally, I was going to go with Gilly but I didn't like the sound of that.

* * *

><p>So the new characters (I know you guys aren't dumb or anything but I feel the need to do it anyways) are: 1- Ivan Braginski most powerful man in Russia (this also implies he's even more powerful than the president, prime minister or whatever) 2- Katyusha Braginski 3- Natalya Braginski and 4- Matthew's buddy that I can't remember his name but is actually Netherlands or Holland, whichever you preffer.<p>

So, long ass chapter, a bitch to work on with my exams comming up (yes, I took time off my exams to finish this chapter)

It's not that writting this was long I was just taking my time...and getting distracted by everything and nothing...a butterfly...

WHAT A WONDERFUL ATTEMPT AT A JOKE!

So, I'm using so again too much, I don't know how long it's going to take me to write the next chapter but I'm going to concentrate on WWIII since it's finishing.

All in all, SEE YOU ALL NEXT CHAPTER!


	11. Song of the Broken Record

**HEY GUYS! So there's a lot more talking in this one which means reading it will go faster! It's the dawn of ACT II - Le Temps Est Bon (Time Is Good) in which Jeanne won't be mentionned as often, instead of concentrating on character backgrounds and such, they'll be concentrating more on the case (mind you, with Yao's nearing appearance, talking about the past of the characters is near inevitable (same thing goes when the Braginski sisters will show up but a little less them))**

**Anyways, I won't keep you longer! Here's chapter 11 - ACT II!**

* * *

><p><strong><em>ACT II - Le Temps Est Bon<em>**

* * *

><p>"<em>Dam dam tatam… tam tam tatam… tam tam tatam tam tam tatam tam tam tatam…"<em>

_Rain pelted on the window as a storm boomed outdoors. Francis trotted slowly around the empty halls of the Edelstein Mansion._

"_Dam dam tatam… tam tam tatam… tam tam tatam tam tam tatam tam tam tatam…"_

_The beautiful, soft, angelic voice resonated eerily in the mansion. The tune was familiar to the French detective and the more it played the more he needed to find its source._

"_Le temps est bon…*"_

_Francis was now running through the halls that slowly stretched and eternalised themselves. His heart was pounding hard as if there was something sentimental about the source of sound. He had to find it, there was no excuse not to._

"_Le ciel est bleu…**"_

_Thunder accompanied by lightning illuminated the halls and shook the household slightly with a deafening war. With more lightning ripping through the sky and bringing light to the obscure great hall, a room was made evident to the desperate Frenchman._

"_Dam dam tatam…"_

_Closer._

"_Tam tam tatam…"_

_Inches away._

"_Tam tam tatam tam tam tatam tam tam tatam…"_

_Francis burst into the room where he found a record player slowly losing speed and just when all movements were at a halt…_

"_Nous n'avons rien à faire que d'être heureux.***"_

"Natalya…turned the music down, our guest is awakening." Ivan ordered keeping his gaze pointed out of the room.

Francis awoke feeling drowsy and confused. His head felt like it weighed a ton but before he could begin to think straight, the detective's nausea was made overwhelming and caused him to throw up on the ground.

"Repulsive…" Ivan stated monotone.

"W-what…?" Francis coughed.

"Brother, he doesn't remember…" Katyusha stated.

"Da, with the _medicine_ he's been taking, it's no surprise." Ivan agreed.

"Where am I?" Francis asked after a moment of combating his nausea.

"Here…" Natalya leaned near him and extended a cup of water.

Francis greedily took it and immediately spat it out as the content of the cup caressed his tongue, "T-this is vodka!" He coughed.

"Is there a problem?" Natalya asked expressionless.

After getting a good look at her face and realising his position, Francis thought it was best not to answer. With efforts, the blonde detective dragged his body away from the pile of vomit that laid on the floor.

"What's going on?" Francis asked dryly.

"We saved you." Ivan answered, lightning illuminated his face darkly, "the driver's dead though."

"I-I don't get it…" Francis stated as he tried to make sense out of everything.

"When we left, we came back," Ivan started, "We found a car crushed by a tree, the driver was dead however the French detective of a sublime reputation laid injured but alive."

"_Le temps est bon…"_

Francis held his head and winced.

"_Le ciel est bleu…"_

"_Ironic this song no?" The driver mentioned, "Especially with this horrible weather we have outside."_

"_Yea…"_

"_Nous n'avons rien à faire que d'être heureux…"_

_The diver looked in the mirror to catch a glimpse of Francis, "Hey, I put this channel on for you," he teased, "You're French, I thought you would appreciate!"_

_Francis smiled, "I do…"_

"_Dam dam tatam…"_

"_It's just that it brings up this awful feeling inside me…" He admitted._

"_Reminds you of heart break, aye?" The driver asked._

"_I guess you could say so…"_

"_Tam tam tatam…"_

_Lightning ripped through the sky accompanied by a loud explosion. _

"_Christ…this storm is brutal! I wouldn't be surprised if one of those trees fell!" The driver cussed._

"_They're large trees…" Francis remarked._

"_Aye! That'll make the mess all the worse!" The driver agreed with a laugh, "Good thing that these roads aren't used much!"_

"_Tam tam tatam tam tam tatam tam tam tatam…"_

_Silence between the two men invaded the car, mainly due to what Francis had learned during his second supper with Lord Weillschmidt had confided to him which kept occupying his mind. _

"_Le temps est beau…"_

_Just then, lightning dashed through the sky once more but hit a large tree. Slowly, it tipped over and as the car passed by, it crashed down completely._

"_Le ciel est bleu…"_

_Francis noticed as it was too late._

"_Watch out!"_

_The vehicle swerved violently._

_A crash and thud._

"_Nous n'avons rien à faire que d' être heureux…"_

"You remember now, da?" Ivan stated more than asked.

"Yea…" Francis answered anyhow. "But where is this?"

"That…is something you don't need to know, _detective_." Ivan answered with an emphasis hinting to Francis's position.

"Ah…Do you want me to stop investigating the Edelstein murder?" Francis asked on guard.

"Not yet…" Ivan admitted finally turning his gaze to Francis. "I want you to tell me exactly everything that Chibipu has told you since I've left."

Francis stared at him silently unsure on what to do. Silence seemed like the best decision then again, the Braginski family was known for acts of extreme violence and cruelty that were never able to be proven. Condemning oneself to silence was the equivalent to accepting a long and agonising death yet silence was the only option that seemed proper to Francis and he would take it, regardless of the consequences, to keep a secret.

"Hmm…your reaction does not please me detective." Ivan admitted. From his sleeve dropped a steel pipe slightly bumped and used at the end used for hitting.

Francis winced in advanced and backed away causing the Russian noble to laugh cruelly. Desperately, Francis looked at Katyusha and at Natalya for aid but the sisters only stared at him blankly.

"W-why are you so interested?" Francis stuttered to buy time. For what? He didn't know.

"You should already be aware, da." Ivan stated leaning down to be somewhat face to face with the detective. "Chibipu and I have an arrangement that must not be foiled by anyone."

"Vanya."

Both men froze and turned their gaze to Katyusha and Natalya.

"The pills…" Natalya continued, "Ask him about the pills we found…"

Francis quickly searched through his coat pockets at the mention of the pills only to realise that they were no longer on him. _Wait…why do I even need them…?_ He wondered.

"Da…perhaps the matter involving Chibipu can wait." Ivan nodded to himself and stood straight. "You know what they are don't you?"

"What? The pills?" Francis asked slightly confused but mainly frustrated.

"Da." Ivan confirmed, "to fools they appear to be large aspirin pills, but to those who sell it and create it, they are recognized in an instant. How did you come into possession of _Zabyvaĭ Menya****?_"

"Zaby—what?" Francis partially repeated.

"_Zabyvaĭ Menya. _The pills you have been taking are named so." Ivan spoke patiently. "The Braginski Organisation are responsible for the distribution and are also important funders to the creators. Of course, the creators shall not be mentioned due to a certain deal we share. Now where did you obtain these?"

"France…" The detective answered holding his head as he struggled to remember. "A doctor gave it to me…but I don't remember why…"

"How reckless of him." Ivan spat revealing an emotion very close to anger, "The drug has not been finalised yet and the side affects have yet to be determined. I guess you'll be serving as a guinea pig detective. But you don't mind, da?"

Francis didn't answer immediately.

"Don't look so weary detective," Ivan reassured, "Being a guinea pig has its advantages! For example, you will be given extra supplies of pills now since you are running low on the ones currently in your possession. I recommend you don't stop taking them just yet, who knows what will happen if you do."

"You don't sound very reassuring." Francis stated glaring at the Russian man.

"Da, was I supposed to?" He asked playfully.

There was a moment of silence in the room but a moment of tension between the two men. Francis was trying to figure out the noble's motive but his facial expressions and body language didn't give anything up. Ivan Braginski had an astounding poker face.

"Enough of this nonsense, da?" Ivan concluded turning his back to the Frenchman. "You are clearly able to walk now that the drugs have warn off."

"You drugged me!" Francis yelled, shocked.

"It was to dull the pain." Ivan replied calmly. "You were almost crushed to death by a tree."

Francis growled lowly and wobbly got to his feet. He stammered through the door before his legs gave in which was a cue for the two Russian sisters to assist the weakened Frenchman.

"To forget one's purpose is the commonest form of stupidity…" Natalya repeated in Francis's ear.

Francis said nothing but pondered the words. _Is she trying to tell me to stop taking the pills…?_

"Where in the bloody hell is that git!" Arthur cursed angrily as he stomped around the head quarters. "We can't get anymore work done until that bloody bastard arrives!"

"Chill dude, what's fussing about it going to do?" Alfred suggested with a point coolly as he swung his feet up on the desk.

Immediately, Arthur pushed them down. "Don't put your feet on the desk! Have you no manners!" Arthur hissed, "And don't tell me to calm down! The frog's been absent for nearly two days! Not only that but the car he was in was found wrecked with the driver dead!"

"Well if he wasn't in it, it's because he's not dead." Alfred pointed out.

"How would you know!" Arthur roared, "Injured and confused he could have wandered out of the wreck and into the forest where he fell unconscious and was devoured by wolves!"

"Okay, now you're sounding like me which worries me." Alfred stated seriously.

"Shut up." The Brit groaned. "You're lucky you don't know what it's like to worry…"

"That's not true!" The American defended, "I'm worried, I'm just not overreacting!"

That statement earned Alfred a punch in the face.

"Oww!" He moaned, "It's true!"

"Shut it!"

"Of course, with you it's different." Alfred moaned flopping on the desk, "Because you lov—"

Alfred's face was roughly shoved in the bureau causing him pain and lack of air before he could finish his sentence.

"Don't you dare finish that!" Arthur whispered his words slithering from his tongue and stabbing Alfred's ears making the former's intentions clear.

"Chill dude!" Alfred insisted, "He'll be here soon enough, just mellow out and don't kill me! It's not fair that you get to let your frustration out to _roughly_ on me."

"Bloody pervert." Arthur hissed once more as he slapped his American comrade.

Alfred chuckled, "Here, let's listen to the radio to have you cool down."

Before Arthur could gather the words to protest, Alfred had switched the radio on and the machine began to sing.

"_Dam dam tatam…_"

Alfred made a face.

"_Tam tam tatam…_"

"Why is this tuned into a French station?" He asked curiously investigating the radio as if there was something more than abnormal about it.

"_Tam tam tatam tam tam tatam tam tam tatam…_"

"I didn't even know you could get French stations in England." Alfred stated.

"_Le temps est bon... Le ciel est b—_"

Arthur turned the radio off abruptly and walked away from Alfred and the desk. "Don't play that station…and I don't want to hear that song." The Englishman sternly stated.

"Okay, cool, all you had to do was tell me." Alfred declared with a nervous laugh.

The atmosphere around them had suddenly gotten a little awkward and tense.

"Screw it." Alfred stood from the desk and grabbed Arthur's wrist, "Let's go out for some of your crappy food. The guys'll call us once our man gets here."

"Twit! You just can't appreciate the superiority of the English culinary arts!" Arthur defended.

"Yea. Sure. That's it."

Without looking ahead, Alfred bumped into someone of his size and clashed heads. The American winced and held his forehead as he hissed in pain, his eyes screwed close.

"There you've been you bloody frog!" Arthur sighed angrily. "I've been worried sick!"

Alfred opened his eyes only to recognise the figure he had bumped into as Francis Bonnefoy.

"Good timing," The American complemented slapping the other's shoulder playfully and ignoring the pain he had caused, "You were just about to miss us. You look like shit bro."

Francis chuckled, "I was almost crushed by a tree."

"Touché." Alfred joked.

"Ah you know French?"

"Nop."

Francis gave the American an odd look unsure how to respond to that bluntness.

"Stupid Frenchie! Where were you!" Arthur cussed angrily. "We're behind on the investigation!"

"Weren't we behind when I began?" Francis asked with a snobby tone.

"He's making a good point, Iggy." Alfred agreed.

Arthur growled to himself, "Regardless! Where were you!"

"I…" Francis paused momentarily and thought about the answer he would give. If he told the truth it meant that Ivan would find out one way or another and send after him, if he lied everything he had found out thus far about the Braginski would be kept secret. "I got information out of Lord Weillschmidt."

"You mean the stuck up German dude?" Alfred asked.

"I'm sorry," Francis apologized, "I don't think we've been acquainted yet."

Alfred blushed lightly in embarrassment. "Oh you're totally right! My bad!" Alfred extended his hand and introduced himself, "Alfred Jones."

"A pleasure; Francis Bonnefoy." Francis introduced himself to his turn shaking his new comrade's hand.

"Yea, I know, you're famous remember?" The blond forensics scientist laughed, "First time I saw you, you were unconscious."

Francis thought for a little and vaguely remembered Arthur telling him about his friend taking away the medication he needed.

Had needed.

Ivan had given him a new supply of pills he would keep taking not because the Russian noble told him so but because it was what his doctor had instructed. Suddenly, Francis's head buzzed which signalled that he needed to take his drugs.

"Would you excuse me for a minute?" Francis asked before quickly pushing his way pass the men.

"The can's calling his name," Alfred smirked.

"Idiot, don't say something like that." Arthur warned. "Ah, that reminds me, you should give him back the pills you took."

"I already told you I wouldn't." Alfred reminded.

"The fact remains that they do not belong to you."

"The fact remains that they are an illegal substance." Alfred retorted with the same sentence structure.

"Must you always uptake a majority of what I say?" The Brit sighed.

"Yea, you're English so everything you say sounds smart."

Arthur stared incredulously at the man before him. Sometimes, the stupidity found in his friend baffled him to speechlessness a little too often.

As quickly as he left, Francis returned feeling better after swallowing his medication. "Right, sorry about that," Francis excused himself, "Shall we postpone this meeting to another time? I'm exhausted after the fiasco of last night…"

Alfred and Arthur exchanged looks. "Yea, I guess…I mean you do look like shit and all…"

A little offended by the comment Francis nodded and called over a cab as he left with a bye. Arthur had decided as it went on to accompany Francis back to his hotel leaving Alfred completely alone and angry that he cancelled a date with his boyfriend for nothing.

"It's bizarre having you come to me of your own accord." Francis chuckled placing an arm around the smaller man.

Arthur quickly pushed it off, "I came to ask you about what happened."

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb." Arthur growled, "I asked you what happened and you changed the subject claiming you got information out of Lord Weillschmidt and didn't even tell us any of it."

"Persistent." Francis complemented as he began to stare outside. "Arthur, I'm tired so this conversation will have to wait until tomorrow."

Arthur was going to argue but couldn't find the words to nag Francis or convince him they had to work. The man was in a car accident and reported missing for almost two days; rest was the least he deserved after such trials.

"Why don't you go to the hospital or something?" Arthur sighed in defeat.

"I've already been." Francis lied but he had been bandaged up by the Braginski before he left.

Arthur was unconvinced but let it slide anyhow as he was given a note pad with everything Lord Weillschmidt had confided to him. Everything Braginski related was kept in Francis's mind for privacy and secrecy.

"So you really did manage to make him talk?" Arthur asked rhetorically as he quickly skimmed through the papers.

"Of course, I wasn't lying." Francis quickly grabbed the note pad from Arthur as he began to read it seriously.

"Hey! Bloody frog!" Arthur yelled angrily. "God! You've barely been back an hour and you're already pissing me off!"

"Haha, I missed you." Francis laughed forcing an arm around the Brit and bringing him closer. "You can read the information after…you've earned it."

"And there's the bloody pervert I abandoned almost two days ago." Arthur grumbled somewhat relieved.

"I'm glad you're sort of back to normal." Francis declared leaning his head back.

"What!" Arthur choked, "If anything you were the one acting out of character! And, mind you, you still are! Why are you acting so distant!"

There was a moment of silence where Francis merely stared at his British colleague wondering what he was talking about and what pushed him to actually voice his mind. To some point, Arthur had hit the mark right on; Francis was acting somewhat distant but only towards the topic of what happened a day and a half ago…or so he thought.

"You're absurd." Francis chimed, "I'll show you how much I haven't changed once we get to my room."

* * *

><p><em>Weillschmidt<em>

_Dislikes Feliciano because of his relationship with Ludwig…signs of possessiveness_

_A little too fond of Lady Hédéváry…possibly loves her…_

_Was with Lord Edelstein at the time of the murder_

_Doesn't sound as close or fond of Lord Edelstein as said to be_

_Left to get present…door was look when he heard ruckus of murder (not very convincing)_

_Pocket watch + picture stolen (check if legitimate)_

_Broke out, Lady Hédéváry and Feliciano were already there, Lord Edelstein dead_

_At restaurant Rainsalot_

_Lord Edelstein and Lord Weillschmidt in same contract with Braginski_

_Braginski interested in Lady Hédéváry; Lord Weillschmidt worried (might have to expect more visits from him…)_

_Lord Edelstein uncooperative around the end of the deal_

_Apparently there's a price for Lord Edelstein's death (confirm if legitimate)_

_Lord Zwingli appeared a week before murder at Edelstein Estate, angry, yelled, threatened_

"_I'll never forgive you for such betrayal! You ruined the last thing we ever shared! I hope your Hungarian whore of a fiancée follows you to hell!"_

_Question Lord Zwingli about statement_

_Supposedly all were confused but Lord Edelstein seemed more troubled_

_Lady Hédéváry can't remember because of pills…(determine if she should keep taking them…)_

* * *

><p>*Time is good<p>

** The sky is blue

*** We have nothing else to do but to be happy

**** Forget me in Russia it's the official name of the pills Francis has been taking since the beginning of the story (I used Google Translate so please correct me if I'm wrong)

* * *

><p><strong>Right, so here I'm going to put the full lyrics to the French song (cuz I didn't make it up) in both languages (French and my translated version to English) and after that I'm going to put a link to it so you can listen to the soft (almost creepy) voice of woman who sings it xP I enjoyed this chapter, even if it was short, because now it meant that crazy shit can start happening (Especially cuz Ivan showed up!) anyhow looking forward to what happens next xP You guys can keep guessing who the culprit is by the way xD Especially with the new info our dear Weillschmidt has given!<strong>

**Le Temps Est Bon (lyrics)**

**Dam dam tatam, ... tam tam tatam, ...tam tam tatam tam tam tatam tam tam tatam,  
>Dam dam tatam, ... tam tam tatam, ...tam tam tatam tam tam tatam tam tam tatam,<br>Le temps est bon, **_(Time is Good)_

**le ciel est bleu **_(The Sky is Blue)_

**j'ai deux amis qui sont aussi mes amoureux **_(I Have Two Friends That Are Also My Lovers)_**  
>Le temps est bon, <strong>_(Time is Good)_

**le ciel est bleu **_(The Sky is Blue)_

**nous n'avons rien à faire rien que d'être heureux **_(We Have Nothing Else To Do But To Be Happy)_**  
>Mon coeur est grand, grand, grand, grand comme le vent <strong>

**Et je suis tendre, tendre, tendre, tendre pour mes amants **

**Je suis la fleur dans leur cerveaux**

Le temps est bon,

_(Time is Good)_

**le ciel est bleu **_(The Sky is Blue)_

**j'ai deux amis qui sont aussi mes amoureux **_(I Have Two Friends That Are Also My Lovers)_ **  
>Le temps est bon, <strong>_(Time is Good)_

**le ciel est bleu **_(The Sky is Blue)_

**nous n'avons rien à faire rien que d'être heureux **_(We Have Nothing Else To Do But To Be Happy)_ **  
>Mes deux amants sont beaux comme les arbres fous <strong>_(My Two Lovers Are Beautiful Like The Crazy Trees)_**  
>Mes deux amants sont doux, doux, doux, <strong>_(My Two Lovers Are Soft, Soft, Soft)_**  
>Je suis à eux de l'âme jusqu'à la peau <strong>_(I Am Theirs From Soul To Body)  
><em>**Les nuits sont longues les jours sont chauds **_(The Nights Are Long The Days Are Hot)_  
><strong>Je ne savais plus voir, <strong>_(I Forgot How to See)_

**je ne savais plus entendre, **_(I Forgot How to Hear)_

**je n'savais plus **_(I Forgot How to Know)_**  
>Voici que je regarde, <strong>_(Look, This Is What I See)_

**que j'écoute et je sais qui je suis, **_(What I Hear and I Know Who I Am)_

**je sais qui je suis **_(I Know How I Am)_

Le temps est bon,

_(Time is Good)_

**le ciel est bleu **_(The Sky is Blue)_

**j'ai deux amis qui sont aussi mes amoureux **_(I Have Two Friends That Are Also My Lovers)_**  
>Le temps est bon, <strong>_(Time is Good)_

**le ciel est bleu **_(The Sky is Blue)_

**nous n'avons rien à faire rien que d'être heureux **_(We Have Nothing Else To Do But To Be Happy)_

Dam dam tatam, ...tam tam tatam, ...tam tam tatam tam tam tatam tam tam tatam,  
>Dam dam tatam, ...tam tam tatam, ...tam tam tatam tam tam tatam tam tam tatam<p>

_Video Link: .com/watch?v=3t5xR80_hoQ_

_**SEE YOU ALL NEXT CHAPTER!**_


	12. They're fucking with your head

**So Chapter 12 is ouuuuuuuuutttt**

**or else we would not be here U_U**

**Anyways, CUE DA DRAMA AND ENJOY!**

* * *

><p>With a large gasp, Francis awoke from a dream.<p>

Or was it a nightmare?

He didn't remember, he just knew there was something troubling about it.

"What's wrong?" Arthur asked.

Francis stared at the naked British man hidden under the covers next to him. He didn't recognize him.

Who was he?

Why was he there?

The confusion on the French's face was evident and frightened Arthur for a minute. He didn't know what to do or how to react to Francis. He didn't even know if Francis had actually forgotten who he was or if there was something else to it.

"Who are you?" Francis finally asked confirming what Arthur feared.

"I…" Arthur stopped. His throat was tight and if he tried to utter another word, he would break into tears, which was the last thing he wanted.

Francis scooted over and leaned in very close to Arthur's face before smiling widely. "_Mais quelle beauté_!*" Francis exclaimed. "You're exactly my type!"

It had suddenly come to the French detective's attention of how close he was to Arthur and immediately backed away.

"I hope you can forgive me, _amour_," He chuckled and gazed softly at the Brit in front of him, "Judging that my memory has faltered dramatically to the point of forgetting you, I must stink alcohol. I apologize for my sent and for my temporary memory loss, to forget a beautiful dove such as you is unforgivable."

Arthur punched Francis across the face for two reasons. The first being overly poetic and flattering to the point of being annoying; the second being fear.

The look in Francis's eyes, the soothing and calm way he spoke, the intense care present in every movement and reaction; they were all so different from the aggravating frog he once knew. If Francis was being himself he would have pulled a stupid sex joke and tried to have another go at it, but he wasn't.

Francis was not himself.

In fact, he wasn't even Francis.

He was…he was…no one.

"I guess I deserved that…" Francis smirked staring emptily ahead. "Feel free to shower and leave when you wish so."

"B…" Arthur's throat tightened. This time it wasn't from sadness or shock but from anger. Anger that he would force out one way or another. "You bloody frog! How dare you forget me! Forget the case! Forget the work we shipped you over for! I can not begin the trouble the agency went through to get your bloody ass here just to help! I don't care if the pills make you forget things! The only thing you will not forget is your work and me until it's complete! Do I make myself bloody clear?"

Francis stared in awe, speechless by the sudden burst of rage before coming to a conclusion.

"I get it; this is some sort of M and S foreplay!" Francis exclaimed. "Am I playing the M or the S because, frankly, I can't tell which is which in this situation…"

"What the bloody hell are you on!" Arthur yelled.

Out of yet another fit of rage Arthur slapped Francis hard across the face, this time bringing spark into the latter's memory.

_Moaning._

_Sex._

"_I love you."_

It all came back to him in one swift moment along with his purpose in England and the case. He stared at the Brit in embarrassment not knowing how to apologize for his behaviour or how to explain himself. One thing, however, was made evident to the Frenchman and that was the memory loss pills he had been taking for a long while. They were meant to have him forget something he had forgotten but not forgotten as well. As much as a paradox as the feeling was, he could say, if he had to, that he had forgotten what he was supposed to forget but that his heart remembered with an uneasy feeling. Nevertheless, the pills were eating up more memories that were recent. One could say his mind was being devoured.

"I…" Francis finally spoke up. "Got you!" He finally exclaimed forcing a rather convincing laugh. "What a good actor I am!"

Arthur stared at his partner in confusion not understanding what had just happened. Of course, Francis responded to his bamboozled partner and lied to him about having pretended to have forgotten everything.

This earned him a second punch to the face, this time cutting open his lip and drawing blood.

"You are impossible! Why must you toy with everyone's feelings without thinking twice!" Arthur shrieked. "I had it! Show up to work when you like or even leave the damn country! With the new leads you opened up your presence is probably a nuisance more than anything now!"

Arthur got out of bed and dressed himself up poorly but quickly. And the speed was all that mattered because the Brit wanted nothing more than to get away from Francis.

"Oh come on," Francis chuckled, "Don't be so angry! I love you and I'm sorry!"

Arthur froze.

"What…?"

Francis was now confused to his turn by Arthur's suddenly odd behaviour. "…what do you mean what?"

"Would you stop throwing around meaningful words as if it were nothing!" Arthur finally snapped.

The man had turned to face the Frenchman were his teary eyes and dark blush was exposed. Having noted this, Arthur dashed out the room ignoring Francis's calls to come back.

* * *

><p>"I've been expecting you…" softly resonated the voice of a man baring an Asian accent. "Mister Ivan Braginski."<p>

"To one of such low status as yourself it should be _Lord_ and not _Mister._" Ivan corrected as he removed his hat and stepped into the dim room.

"Yet such a thing has never bothered you before, Ivan." Replied calmly the Asian man.

"Da, it hasn't, Yao." Ivan retorted using the same tone.

"Do you seek the future once more?" Yao asked getting to the point of the meeting.

"Da, I seek to know two things." Ivan began, "The first being if you if a certain Frenchman will pay you a visit later on today or during the week."

"The time draws near but has not yet been revealed."

"The second," Ivan continued taking in note the answer Yao had given him, "If the resolution of the Edelstein case will be of great or minor loss to the Braginski family."

Yao paused before answering which was rather rare and a bad sign if the Russian lord based himself off the other visits he had paid the seer in previous trips to England.

"A loss, there will be." Yao finally answered cautiously, "To determine if it will be great or minor is up to you. If you value what will be loss, it will be great, if you do not, then it will not."

There was a moment of silence engaged by Ivan who was expecting Yao to confide to him what it was he was about to lose. Loosing patience and being unaccustomed to silence the way Yao was, he broke it.

"What am I going to lose?"

Yao smiled and leaned comfortably in his seat. "Only time will tell."

* * *

><p>Arthur returned to his house unhappy about the idea to hear his elderly mother nag him about things that would appear more aggravating than usual. He opened the door quietly hoping that his mother wouldn't notice him and carefully took off his shoes. This time he was happy that he left the luxurious hotel with his wallet instead of forgetting it like all the other times, risking Francis doing something stupid with the personal information found inside.<p>

Quietly and careful to distribute his weight equally within every step to keep the floor from creaking abnormally loud, Arthur made his way to his room to get some fresh clothes which he would change into after his shower.

As he stealthily made his way to the bathroom in the most profound of silences, the soft sound of giggling made itself to the Brit's ears.

_Is that…mumzy?_

Worried and confused on why she would be giggling to herself in such a way, Arthur speculated that the old woman had finally lost her mind. He dashed to where his mother seemed to be; in this case, it was outdoors on the porch. He slammed open the door only to find his mother having a pleasant conversation with Alfred and Matthew.

"It seems we can finally be joined by my good for nothing son." Arthur's mother giggled pleasantly. "However, I think it would be best for him to shower first."

Matthew resisted a laugh but couldn't repress a smile while Alfred freely laughed out loud.

"I'll say!" He agreed. "Arthur you smell like sh—"

The American was cut off by a heavy blow to the head, courtesy of Arthur.

"Would you watch your bloody mouth and explain to me _why_ you're here!" He hissed.

"Aren't we not allowed having tea with your lovely mother?" Alfred defended massaging the growing bump on his head.

"Oh stop it _Mister_ Jones." She giggled blushing shamelessly.

Arthur twitched at the sight. "What. The. Bloody. Hell. Did. You. Do. To. My. Mother!" He gritted through his teeth.

"Nothing! Besides showed her what a _fun time_ you Europeans can have with Americans!" Alfred boasted.

"_North_ Americans." Matthew specified reminding Alfred how much he didn't like being referred to as a citizen of the US.

"Right." The blond American agreed with the correction.

Something indescribable snapped in Arthur's head that very moment. Was it due to all the stress of working on a case that wasn't progressing too well? Francis being a perverted little prick? The thought of him possibly being in love with the Frenchman? The fact that Alfred had corrupted his beloved Mumzy? Or all of those combined together?

Arthur broke down and fell to his knees surprising all present.

Alfred, feeling a touch of guilt and worry was the first to speak, "Hey…don't worry…I mean, you Europeans can _sometimes_ be fun…" He tried to cheer up.

"Would you shut your bloody mouth!" Arthur snapped angrily. "You just wouldn't understand you snobby American trash!"

With that, Arthur pushed himself up and dashed back in his house to calm down on his own.

"My…what a rude boy I have…" Arthur's mother laughed nervously.

"I…I'll go talk to him…" Alfred declared stepping towards the house.

Matthew quickly grabbed him the wrist, holding him back, "No, I'll go speak with him. You'll probably say something stupid and upset him even more."

Before Alfred could object and begin a debate that he would lose, Matthew dashed after their wounded and troubled friend.

Of course, almost childishly, Arthur hid himself in his room as he contemplated all the sources of stress in his life. However, the one his mind persisted to concentrate on was Francis.

Francis.

Francis.

And Francis again.

The Canadian blond found Arthur hiding his face in a pillow nearly ripping his hair out. Matthew couldn't help but smile. He remembered the many times he or Alfred found himself in Arthur's current position all those years ago, during the exchange program to the United States.

Gently and almost motherly like, Matthew sat next to Arthur on the bed and slipped an arm over the Brit's shoulders feeling him relax immediately. He pulled him into a soundless hug for a few minutes until Arthur completely calmed down.

"It's bizarre of you to express such weakness in the presence of others." Matthew whispered softly. "Alfred was more troubled than anything because he thought you were the super hero he could always rely on when he found himself in your state."

"I'm not invincible…" Arthur muttered.

"I know…" The Canadian reassured, "But you know Alfred, he's so single minded yet opened minded. He makes no sense, yet he does. Nevertheless, this isn't about Alfred, this is about you. What's the matter?"

Arthur stayed quiet and shook his head. "I don't…" his voice lowered in a whisper and trailed off.

Matthew already it meant he was uncomfortable with talking about it and he would have to guess the key elements to get Arthur to open up.

"Is it about Francis?" Matthew started with a tone of fake innocence.

Arthur flinched confirming that that frog he hated so much caused a large part of his break down.

"I know how much you don't like the French, the why is beyond me," Matthew smiled in victory and continued, "But, from what I hear and notice, you seem to enjoy the company of Francis quite more than you let others believe you do."

"Alfred couldn't keep his trap shut, hun?" Arthur stated more than asked.

"Yes but you should have known that that idiot can't keep a secret." Matthew reproached. "Anyways, the point is what's the problem with loving a guy like that?"

"He's a _guy_." Arthur lied finding a random excuse, "I'm not _gay_! I've loved a woman before! Many of the really! If _he_ were a _she_, that would change everything."

Matthew gave Arthur an unconvinced look that he pretended not to notice.

"Would you care naming one woman that seduced you?" Matthew demanded in order to prove his point, "Besides _Emily_ of course."

Arthur flinched and blushed again, "You're being intolerable!"

"It's not my fault you didn't recognize Alfred dressed as a woman." Matthew giggled.

"He just…pisses me off…" Arthur stuttered returning to the main topic. "I…He…it's complicated…"

"It doesn't have to be." Matthew stated earning a confused look from Arthur, "All you need to do is come to terms with what you feel and everything will come into place. Sure it may be difficult because you don't necessarily understand your feelings but people find that once they voice it, everything is much simpler."

"Well…how would I do that?" Arthur asked cooperatively.

"Hmm…" Matthew thought for a little, "What if Francis were to suddenly vanish from your life? How would you feel? Don't answer right away, really think about it."

Arthur nodded and thought.

_If that Frog would randomly disappear…I'd be pissed because my higher uppers paid a lot to have him here and help…if he'd vanish…I'd mi—_

Matthew smiled noticing his friend's face redden slowly. "Now what if you were to live the rest of you life with him?"

_I would be annoyed by his way of speaking…annoyed…but…he's funny…and has his qua—_

"DEAR GOD WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME!" Arthur yelled pulling the covers over his head.

Matthew laughed and stood, "You're in love." He made his way to the door and stopped, "It's not a bad thing, so don't worry too much. Though you tend to react negatively to it, remember the worse your attitude becomes, the faster you fall."

"And this is supposed to comfort me?"

"Not really." Matthew winked and left the room.

Arthur was left alone in his thoughts and hid his face in his knees. He thought about what was just confirmed to him, he thought about what it meant to be in love. He then thought about the favour Matthew did for him…and if he could really call it favour.

"He…kind of reminded me of that frog…" Arthur muttered to himself.

* * *

><p>Francis sighed and walked over to the police station, he had to discuss the information acquired with Arthur and also had to fill in a report about why he had temporarily gone missing.<p>

"_You'll keep this secret, da?" _

Francis looked around as if the Russian lord was near; keeping an eye on him to make sure he was respecting the conditions imposed on him. The Frenchman suddenly stopped on the sidewalk angering many British pedestrians that were surprised by the abruptness.

"_If something abnormal occurs with your continuous use of Zabyvaĭ Menya, give me a call."_

Francis pulled a card from his jacket containing a telephone number. His gaze shifted from the number to his surroundings until he spotted a telephone booth. Slowly, almost as if he was being pushed by an invisible force, he approached the booth just when someone cut passed him and entered.

Francis shook his head and stalked off in direction of the police bureau, his eyes still on the phone booth when he bumped into someone large.

"I beg your par—"

"Da, you do." Ivan smiled. "You called?"

"No—"

"But you were going to, da?" Ivan creepily leaned in successfully intimidating the Frenchman.

"…"

"What new information have you acquired concerning Zabyvaĭ Menya?" Ivan asked in a serious tone.

"It…" Francis hesitated. "I was told that it would make me forget a specific memory…but I'm forgetting more recent things…"

"Example." Ivan demanded standing up straight with authority. "We can not perfect the drug if we do not know what recent memories were washed away."

"…well…everything…" Francis stuttered but then thought it through. "No…I remembered who I was, my job, my origin and things like that…but not why I was in England and who I was with."

"And this significant person was your partner?" Ivan guessed earning a nod from Francis. "I see. We thank you for your cooperation."

Ivan turned hastily and left.

"Wait!" Francis called stopping the Russian. "Aren't you going to…tell me why it's happening? When this is going to stop?"

"We will prepare new pills and give them to you as soon as they're ready." Ivan answered rapidly before leaving.

Unsatisfied Francis chased after him but lost him in the crowd that suddenly grew thicker when he was within arm's reach. Three steps later the streets were nearly empty and the above average height lord was nowhere to be seen.

"Fuck…" Francis cursed for the first time in a long while out of frustration. "What am I getting myself into…"

Francis continued his way to the police head quarters where he met up with Arthur. There was an awkward silence until Francis broke it claiming they needed to go to the London China town. Arthur, tense about the whole situation, didn't object by requesting the relevance of the trip.

In a few minutes, they got off the car and began wandering the streets of countless fruit and vegetable merchants. They were inquired a few times about products for sale that they politely refused when Francis spotted their destination.

"_Dīpankara._" Francis read aloud before making his way to the hotel.

Arthur stared at the Frenchman make his way towards the hotel hesitantly.

"Aren't you coming?" He asked turning around once he realised the Brit wasn't following anymore. Arthur blushed lightly and slowly followed. "Don't worry, this has to do with the case."

Arthur rolled his eyes.

Once inside Francis requested a certain Yao Wang which pushed Arthur to ask himself how his partner knew about such a person. Arthur only vaguely knew who Yao was due to some of the cases that brought him to the China town. If someone knew about what was happening on the not so legal side of town and was willing to give information for a price, he was the man to go to.

They were brought to a room with dim lighting and Chinese art covering the walls. At the far end of the room was a Japanese resembling tea table with a man smoking a pipe** calmly.

"I have been expecting you both…" He said calmly exhaling smoke rings. "A vision from the future you seek?"

"Yes." Francis answered taking a seat.

Arthur hesitated again but took a seat as well, scooting a little further away from Francis.

"What you seek is the solution?" Yao asked clearly referring to the Edelstein case.

"That too, can you tell us anything?" Francis requested with a hint of disparity.

"I can tell you many things." Yao replied, "You'll have to be more specific detective."

"The culprit, who is he?"

Yao took a big puff from his pipe and sighed deeply. "That is information not yet revealed to me." The Chinese man explained, "However, silver is proper."

"Wait!" Arthur spoke up, "How do you know such details? They are confidential!"

"What will you do, arrest me?" Yao taunted.

Arthur stood up in a fit of rage as did Francis but to control his hot tempered partner.

"Stand down, Arthur." Francis ordered gaining complete silence, "continue."

"No." Arthur refused angrily. "This is it. I can't do this anymore. You're keeping secrets from me, those pills are fucking with your head, I can't work like this."

Arthur walked towards the exit of the room.

"What do you mean?" Francis asked confused.

"Exactly what it bloody means." Arthur responded. "I'm out, I'm done with this case and with you. Good day mister Bonnefoy."

* * *

><p>* But what beauty!<p>

** By pipe I don't mean the drug tool thing but um…well look at this picture .com/images/products/dm_1733_ ... so I know it's still usable for weed and such but…well I know what I mean T_T

* * *

><p><strong>So I decided to stop it there because it was supposed to stop with Yao saying something like: "Isn't it obvious? I see all, I hear all, I know all."<strong>

**But it just couldn't happen so I decided to end with DRAMAAAAAA**

**So I probs won't upload chapter 13 for a while cuz I wanna concentrate on my other series, especially the Canada World Adventures one xD I love how I can't remember the title of one of my creations. **

**ANYWAYS, I SAID IT TWICE, SEE YOU NEXT CHAPTEEEEEERRRRR**


	13. The Trials of Mortality

**And so chapter 13 has come to us all!**

**I like the chapter all the way except at the end! I find the end was total shit and you guys will have to forgive me for that. I think what I wanted to do was establish the relationship between the Braginski sibblings and how much they mean to one another, it was also to shine light on Ivan and I'm going to stop there before I ruin it xD**

**I'll continue this later, for now ENJOY!**

* * *

><p>Arthur left the hotel, marched out of China town and back to his house. He had not bothered taking a mode of transportation for two reasons. The first being that he was expecting to some extent to have Francis chase after him and apologize, the second being he wanted to blow off some steam. However, adding to his anger and anguish, Francis had never chased after him nor tried to hold him back after Arthur declared he would be dropping the case.<p>

_The pills…the bloody pills!_ Arthur hissed to himself as he slammed his fist against a brick wall angrily.

He leaned on that wall for a moment as he finally let, for the first time in a long while, his emotions loose. He pressed his forehead against the wall and cried heavy tears.

It wasn't fair.

Love wasn't fair.

The pills weren't fair.

The whole point of taking those stupid pills were to numb the pain of Jeanne's death by forgetting her. Arthur didn't know how to look at the effects; Francis had forgotten her, without forgetting her. He would remember a woman fitting her description but not know who she was. Basically, the job was done partially, not only that but the pills were eating more and more memories such as the ones including himself.

Arthur had no words to describe the pain he felt when Francis woke up that morning not remembering who he was and when he began to treat him like a total stranger. It wasn't fair.

_It's not fair…to love someone who's forgetting you…_ Arthur thought over and over as the tears increased.

His heart was being torn, or so it felt as such. He thought over everything from the beginning, from the moment he first met the Frenchman in person, pass the point where his terrible secret was confided to their horrible parting at the _Dīpankara_.

Then, his mind rested on Jeanne.

Soon Arthur realised that, what was most unfair, was that even without remembering who she and the impact she had had on his life, Francis was completely in love with her. He still loved Jeanne and thought about her all the time, or at least when he had the time to think about something else than the Edelstein case.

Thunder boomed above Arthur and rain began to pelt down, for a moment, the Brit considered this ironic seeing the environment reflected his mood but soon dismissed it. It was always rainy and depressive in England.

* * *

><p>Francis stood at the door, staring. He felt as if he should have gone after Arthur but some answers needed to be answered before he could do such a thing. What needed to take priority was the case, emotional and personal troubles would need to come second. He sighed and returned to the small table where Yao still sat waiting patiently.<p>

"You are a man of good heart." He complemented inhaling smoke. "Perhaps that is why fate taunts you."

"I don't know what you're talking about…" Francis admitted, which was half true.

"Of course, that is because you don't remember many things." Yao informed.

"Nevertheless, please answer my question." Francis insisted changing the subject completely.

Yao was quiet for a moment that seemed to last forever. He inhaled deeply, held his breath and then exhaled releasing a large amount of smoke that wandered to Francis, blinding him temporarily.

"As I have told you beforehand," Yao began slowly, "Silver is proper. But what will you do when the truth is revealed? Answers to forgotten questions will be given and a tormented heart exposed."

"Please don't speak in parables." Francis requested holding his head, "And don't wander off the topic."

"I have not, detective." Yao replied smirking.

"How can I find a clue to further this investigation?" Francis continued dismissing the seer's reply.

"Snow blows hard from the east and has arrived in London," Yao answered placing his pipe on the table, "But you know that, you've already seen it. The cold eyes of cruelty know a lot and, with the right words, will answer all."

"Can't you just tell me who or what?" Francis sighed.

"I need not," Yao laid back comfortably and sighed to his turn, "You already know who it is."

Francis held Yao's gaze before asking another question but was cut off by the Chinese fortune teller.

"Time's up detective." Yao smiled, "You'll have to pay for the next round."

"I don't have to pay for this time?" Francis inquired surprised. Previous experiences led Francis to believe that most Asians weren't so keen on giving things away without a price.

"The first time was a gift." Yao informed fishing through his pocket for something, "You came here because of what Lady Hédéváry said, no? She is my friend and this is a gift that might help terminate her sorrow sooner."

"I see…" Francis nodded, "How much will the next one cost?"

Yao thought for a minute, "1 million dollars."

The smile painted on Yao's face was mischievous and clearly hinted to the fact that he would answer no more questions. Francis got up and headed for the door.

"Ah! Before you go detective." Yao called. Francis turned around and caught, just in time, a bag thrown to him. It contained an amount of white pills he knew all too well. On the plastic bag was a heart drawn to signify: _with love_. "To forget one's purpose is the commonest form of stupidity."

The Frenchmen stood in place for a moment, dumbfounded. That quote, the pills and…the snow blowing from the east.

"I would like for you to answer one last question," he requested and continued without giving the other time to answer, "Where can I find Ivan Braginski?"

* * *

><p>Arthur arrived to the office, there was no one besides him and, possibly, the janitor yet no sound was heard and so he assumed he was alone. The Brit slowly wandered to his desk reflecting on what he was about to give up. This case was big, very big, by giving it up he would be abandoning fame, reputation and a possible promotion. Those were important things in the life of any detective, if one would give them up, it would be for a very good reason.<p>

But Arthur was tired.

He was tired of this confusion that rose the second Francis did or said something he simply didn't understand, he was tired of running in circles and being outdone by the Frenchmen during interrogation, he was tired of having secrets kept from him but, most of all, he was tired of being in love.

Only once, he had loved previously another total idiot, as he considered them to be. It was Alfred, his close friend that had never understood what he had felt for him or returned those feelings. During the time he spent overseas in his company, he had tried expressing what he felt but something odd always happened to make it seem like Arthur meant something completely different. Then, one fateful day, Alfred told Arthur how he felt. He confided that he was in love with Matthew and that he didn't know what to do since the Canadian's time in the United States was drawing to an end.

Arthur had been mean – no, that was an understatement, he had been cruel. He lied to his friend; he told him that Matthew was in love with Lars, the Dutch boy that everyone knew to fancy the Canadian. Alfred had been heart broken and kept his distance from Matthew until the time came for him to return to Canada. That day, Arthur and Lars had been the only one to escort him to the train station and see him off.

Arthur still remembered the broken tone Matthew had used just before he turned his back on them. "So I guess Al won't be coming, hun?"

Neither of them knew what to say or do. Nevertheless, Matthew had left it at that and boarded his train. Arthur watched the train leave the station and Matthew poke his head out of the window, waving. As the train charged further and further away from the station, regret and shame surfaced in the Brit's soul. Matthew, his friend, had been so upset that Alfred hadn't shown up and it was all because of him. Him and his selfishness.

That day, Arthur didn't return to the apartment he shared with the American until late in the night. The sun was almost completely set; the night life that was always so vibrant in the city began to rise but the guilt in Arthur's heart remained.

He had known better and he still knew better however, he couldn't bring himself to decide whether or not he would tell Alfred the truth, but he had never gotten the chance. Once he had entered the apartment, Arthur had been greeted by quiet and loneliness. He was surprised that Alfred wasn't present but figured he went out for a drink. As he was about to retreat to his room, the Brit noticed a note on the table.

It was then, after reading it, that Arthur concluded love only lead to pain in his case. The letter left on the table had been written by Alfred and informed his roommate that he had left for Canada to find Matthew and win him. Arthur had fallen on a chair while reading it due to shock and began to pour heavy tears but with no sobs. The man forced a smile on his face after a moment of letting the pain flow away and rubbed the tears away.

He sincerely wished happiness for his friends and decided that he would never love anyone else from that point on.

What shame it was to have not been able to keep his word and fall for another. Granted it was many years later but, nevertheless, the humiliation was still present. Not only that but the same event that occurred back with Alfred was starting to repeat himself. Francis was falling in love, all over again, with his dead wife that persisted in living in his memories.

_I'm cursed. _He thought grimly, _I'm definitely cursed._

Arthur sat down, at his desk, and picked up a pen. He fiddled around his bureau to find a nice piece of paper to write his letter of resignation for the Edelstein case. Again, as he began writing letters that would form words and then sentences, Arthur promised himself he wouldn't repeat the same mistake. Some would say he was still too young to abandon hope on love, perhaps they were right, but at the very moment, Arthur didn't think it mattered.

He finished writing his letter, signed it and then sealed it in an envelope with his signet. The letter's presentation had been so formal since Arthur wanted to be taken off the case, not lose his job. He knew his boss to not take too kindly to detectives who ordered to be taken off cases and that they mostly ended up in search of employment.

He sighed deeply as he dropped it on the chief's desk and reconsidered what he was currently doing. He wondered again if it was really all worth it but thought of the same reasons as he first did when he entered the establishment.

Satisfied with his decision, he left the empty and lonely building to return home and rest. The next day he would call and advise the secretary that he was going to take a two week vacation to clear his mind.

* * *

><p>Francis had a decision to make; he would either chase after Arthur even though it was probably already too late or locate Ivan Braginski. It was a tough call to make, he wanted to fix things with his partner but if he tried doing it too soon, it would only make matters worse. However, waiting was not one of his virtues.<p>

_Yao told me that Ivan was located deep in the forest, where he had brought me after that car accident, _Francis reminded himself, _He didn't give me an address but said that the Korean boy at the receptionist desk could get me a cart that would take me there._

The only thing the Frenchman remembered about the location of the eerie mansion was that it was deep in the forest. He had fallen asleep on the trip home and so couldn't try to remember the surroundings.

Since the time it took to reach the mansion was unknown, Francis thought it best to resume the investigation the following day and chase after the angry Brit. It was getting late anyways; it was about time to call it a day.

The Frenchman decided to direct his attention to Arthur's house; he vaguely remembered where he lived but knew he would recognize the surroundings once he was in the given area. He halted a carriage and thought it would be amusing to see Arthur's face as he would arrive in such a cheesy transportation device. With some convincing of bringing Francis rather far away from down town London and into the quaint neighborhoods, he laid back calmly and began to enjoy the trip.

He listened carefully to the clacking sound of the horse shoes against the paved ground and the light creaking sound of the spinning wheels. To others, this would be considered ruckus but the small sounds that others rarely enjoyed were the ones that Francis loved to hear.

_Jeanne liked them too—_He halted his train of thought.

Why was he going to say that? Who was that Jeanne he so recently thought of? Anxiety rose and subconsciously, he reached for the pills given to him by Yao. His movements had seemed to be decreasing in rapidity as sudden memories he couldn't quite understand surfaced.

_A fire._

_A girl._

_Blood._

_Piano._

_A silver flash._

His head began to hurt and he desperately tried to think of something else as he swallowed five pills at once. It wasn't until the anxiety settled that Francis noticed that the driver looked back and was staring at him with a confused look.

"Are yee alright, sir?" He asked.

Francis nodded slowly, "_O-oui…_"

"Are you one o' those with asthmar…or whatever they call it?" He questioned slightly concerned.

"It's asthma." Francis corrected, "And no."

"Yee were hyper ventilatin' so I thought…" The driver's voice trailed off.

"Nevertheless, I'm fine."

The conversation stopped there and Francis tried to remember if he actually did hyper ventilate. He shook his head and began wondering why the driver had suddenly begun to ask him those odd questions and why he had felt deep uneasiness only moments ago.

He shrugged it off and resumed enjoying the little sounds he enjoyed so much.

About thirty minutes later, the carriage had entered a dead quiet neighborhood seeming familiar and slowly began to recognize himself. Just as he was about to tell the driver to turn right, the latter spoke first.

"Aye, look yonder," He motioned the right with his chin, "A house is burning."

Worry had not yet invaded the body of the Frenchman, the chances of that being Arthur's house was very minor, practically impossible.

"Turn left," He indicated.

Besides, the burning house seemed to be too close, he was sure the Brit's house was a little further ahead.

As they entered the next vicinity, the truth became more apparent. The houses and apartments they passed by were gradually more familiar than the next and soon he realised that the house burning a little down the street, surrounded by the people of the region, was Arthur's.

"_Merde!_*"

Francis jumped out of the carriage and bolted towards the burning apartment, he could hear the driver yell for his money and chase after him, but soon enough he entered the thick crowd.

Deathly, red flames erupted from all the windows of the apartment complex giving it a hellish aspect. Dismay and an odd feeling of déjà vu came to the Frenchman's mind but there was no time to contemplate it.

"Are the tenants safe and out of the apartment?" He desperately yelled hoping anyone would respond.

"Aye, the woman yonder," informed a woman indicating Arthur's mother, "says her son is still inside."

"Has anyone gone in after him?"

"Yee see the building? Imminent death of yee would try to enter—"

Whether the woman was done talking or not was of no importance to Francis. He pushed through the rest of the crowd and dashed towards the burning establishment. Some of the men tried to stop him but rising adrenaline gave Francis the power to drive them off.

He jumped over the fire covering part of the floor and fell on the ground. Quickly he got up and ran through the stairs that would bring him to the pent house where his partner lived. Once there, he kicked the door in and entered the burning home, "Arthur!" He yelled between coughs. "Arthur!"

Francis heard nothing and could hear nothing except the hungry fire expanding around the home, eating the rare places that had been spared so far. Without a minute to waste, he ran down the halls screaming his partner's name over and over but in vain. He looked in every room regardless of the intolerable heat and the black smoke stinging at his eyes. Soon, he had looked everywhere besides on the superior level but when the time came to look upstairs, they collapsed barring his access.

Desperately he yelled, "Arthur! Arthur if you're up there say something! Do something!"

He waited and just as he had begun to lose hope, he heard what sounded like food steps dragging themselves towards the stairs. Arthur slowly appeared above the destroyed stair case clutching his gut that was dripping red.

"Bloody bastard…how dare you return…" Arthur coughed terribly and began to choke on some blood. However, he cleared his throat of the dense liquid and rubbed his mouth clean of it from his sleeve. "Leave me be…I rather die here…"

Arthur's voice was drowsy and his eyes were fluttering close constantly, at first Francis thought it was from the loss of blood but he realised it was from drinking. This information had made him feel slightly better since he was aware that the Brit wasn't able to feel the excruciating pain from the wound at his gut.

"Don't be stupid!" Francis cried desperately and opened his arms, "Jump! I'll catch you!"

"Piss off wanker." Arthur growled as parts of the ceiling began to cave in.

"We don't have time for this Arthur! Jump!" The Frenchman insisted.

"Why don't you just leave?" Arthur spat, "Go back to France and cry over that rock with your lover's name!"

"What are you talking about?" Francis desperately asked, "Never mind, we don't have time for this! Just jump! I'll catch you!"

"Look at that bloody Frenchie trying to be a hero…" Arthur laughed drunkenly, "You could learn a thing or two from Alfred…"

"Arthur just jump!" Francis yelled, "I'm not losing anyone else!"

There had been a pause in his mind, a pause that lasted much shorter than it seemed to be. Francis wondered about who he could have been referring to when he said anyone else and why familiar pain ran through his body.

"Please jump," he begged, "If you want to make me pay, fine, but not like this! Not with your life!"

Arthur had seemed to have regained some sensibility for a moment. "Bloody hell…" He cursed jumping from the crumbling stair set and into Francis's arms, "The things I let you talk me into…"

Francis passed his partner's arm around his shoulder as he got a good grip on his waist, he led him down the building at a quick paste but as they neared the second floor a large boom was heard and the ceiling caved in blocking their passage. Quickly, the only sober mind evaluated the situation as he entered the second floor, looking for a way out.

The whole situation seemed to be hopeless until he thought of a drastic solution that he himself wasn't too sure of the success rates being in their favour. Nevertheless, time was running out fast and if they stayed any longer in the burning building, they would both either die from suffocation or burned. They entered a home that was the less engulfed by flames and made their way to the window. The window had already shattered all that was left was to remove the rest of the glass that could cause hazardous wounds. Once that was settled Francis peaked his head out first to remind himself if he actually wanted to go through with his idea.

_They say that you can only survive a fall from the third floor at most… _He thought to himself, _We're on the second floor…we should be fine…Should…_

He looked over at the Brit he was carrying and noticed how incredibly pale he had gotten and began to worry about the injury to his gut. Before any supplementary thought could be made, the same cracking sound from when the ceiling had first caved in was heard again but this time perfectly above them.

"Forgive me if we don't make it out alive." Francis quickly pleaded as he scooped up his partner in his arms and leaped out the window.

* * *

><p>"<em>Just close your eyes the sun is going down,<em>" A gentle voice hummed, an oddly familiar one,_ "You'll be alright; no one can hurt you now, come morning light you and I will be safe and sound._"

Arthur opened his eyes with great difficulty wondering why they felt so heavy and he so weak. Lazily, he tried to push himself in a sitting position but excruciating pain to his gut stopped him and caused him to worry.

"Oh…you're awake." The woman standing, or sitting, next to him noticed, "I'm glad to see you're alright. Do you remember your name?"

"Of course I do," he groaned forcing himself in the sitting position regardless of the pain, "It's Arthur Kirkland."

"Very good, do you remember what happened before you fell asleep mister Kirkland?" The woman asked.

Arthur paused as he tried to open his eyes and focus his gaze completely, "I…wanted a week of vacation," He answered as he observed his surroundings confused. "Why am I in a hospital?"

The woman before him that he had thought to be familiar was actually a complete stranger. She had a hint of a foreign accent that he couldn't place at the current moment but that was probably due to his preoccupation on what happened before everything blacked out.

The woman before him was rather young but seemed well experienced in her domain; she also wore her nurse outfit very nicely. _If I was interested in women, I might have gone for her…_ The Brit thought to himself.

She stood up and unclipped papers from the end of his bed, she pushed her long pale hair behind her ear as she read through the paper quickly. Arthur noticed that under the nurse hat was something that resembled a white ribbon.

"I thought nurses were to wear their uniform and nothing more when working," Arthur asked then pointing at the ribbon.

The nurse blushed lightly and her purple eyes began to run around the room, "My brother gave it to me…I never go anywhere without it…" She mumbled almost to herself.

Arthur smiled, "Don't worry, I won't tell." He informed pressing his index to his lips.

The nurse smiled faintly before resuming her job and begin informing Arthur of what had happened, "You said you wanted a week's worth of vacation, and, in a way, you got it." She started walking around Arthur's bed and stopping on his right side, "You got rather drunk one night when you probably shouldn't have. Your apartment was set on fire; the police investigation reported that it was not an accident which could just have been confirmed by the wound to your gut. Nevertheless, you didn't get out of the building like everyone else had until a brave man, your partner, ran in to get you. Even so you still remained in the building for an important period of time and absorbed a dangerous sum of smoke. You're lucky to be alive."

"I was…someone tried to murder me?" Arthur asked baffled.

The nurse nodded.

"And…that git, Francis, is he alright?"

The nurse nodded again, "He only stayed a night so that we could treat his burns." She informed, "Nothing too serious, unlike you."

Arthur nodded too, "How did we get out?"

"Mister Bonnefoy took a risk but luck was in his favour," She began speaking highly of him, "He jumped out of the second floor, with you, and landed on a pile of mattresses the neighbouring houses gathered. Apparently they had been screaming for you to jump from the pent house."

Arthur laughed to himself, "That bastard…" there was a pause filled with silence, "When can I leave?"

"Soon enough, you've been ready to leave for two days now," The nurse added as she stood once more, "We were just waiting for you to wake up. The doctor will be here shortly. Try not to move around to much, your stitches might break."

The nurse left the room but not before adding one last thing.

"To forget one's purpose is the commonest form of stupidity…"

The door closed behind her and Arthur sighed. He stared out the window and wondered for a moment how he had been so lucky. It had been quiet in his room, maybe for five more minutes, when the door opened and a joyful nurse walked in.

"Oh goodie, you're awake." This one spoke like an Englishwoman, "Do you remember your name?"

Arthur paused for a minute, "Why am I being asked these questions again?"

"Again?" The nurse asked, "This is the first time we've come to see you today."

"But…"

* * *

><p>Natalya took off the nurse hat exposing her ribbon completely as she wandered outside of the hospital and down the street. There she met with her brother and her older sister. Ivan was leaning on his cane gripping the carved head viciously as he controlled his excitement.<p>

"He's awake." She reported taking the coat offered to her by her sister.

"Well done," Ivan congratulated her, "No one asked questions?"

"None," she answered.

Ivan nodded in approval, "You look very pretty in that suit Natalya," Katyusha complemented with a softening smile.

"Thank you _sestra_." Natalya thanked, "You should wear it next time."

"I would love too…but…" Katyusha stared down at her large breasts.

"It's alright…" Natalya comforted taking her sister's hands, "I'm sure Vanya will make one that fits you."

The two sisters stared at their brother, "If you really want one." Ivan responded slowly, "But it will have to wait after this whole affair is settled."

The two girls nodded and grabbed either arm of their brother as they walked away slowly, Katyusha leaned her head on her brother, "When will the detective Bonnefoy return to us?" She asked.

"You like him?" Ivan asked surprised.

"More or less…" She answered, "He seems so sad…I wonder when he'll be happy…"

"He'll be happy when he forgets what hurts him," The Russian answered, "But he has to remember that to forget one's purpose is the commonest form of stupidity…"

Rain began pouring down on the city of London drenching all those foolish enough to have ventured out of their house without an umbrella.

"What a wretched place."

* * *

><p>* Shit<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Anyways, so I wanted it to get through that as cold as Ivan actually is, he loves his sisters and it's not because he makes them dress up in sexy nurses outfits that he's some douche bag that just uses his sisters for his own means (like Vanaerys from Game of Thrones). All in all, Ivan is mean to others but not to his sisters!<strong>

**I enjoy using songs I enjoy in this story =w=**

**To be honest I enjoy writting about the situation of the Braginski brothers a lot more than the main characters themselves xD For those waiting for the final chapters of World War III, don't worry they're getting here! I'll write them all and post them all at once xD**

**Btw, has anyone here read my story Cinderella America? I just wanted to know if anyone picked up on my refference to this story xD Anyways, my habit of using 'anyways' has begun once more, so...**

**SEE YOU ALL NEXT CHAPTER!**


	14. Your Unrequited Love

**Finally, chapter 14! I began writting chapter 15 but I might start it from the beginning so you guys will need to wait a little!**

**THE APPEARANCE OF A NEW CHARACTER! WHO'S THAT HETALIA-MON?**

**A little love in this chapter too, I find the title fits it!**

**ENJOY**

* * *

><p>Arthur had been in a coma for five days now, and Francis was consumed with worry. What if he never woke up? He didn't know how he would deal with that. He didn't know how he would react to the news, to the knowledge of never hearing that Brit's angry voice ever again. It would be horrible for them to part with their last memory being a fight. Francis had resolved himself to apologize and tell Arthur how much he meant to him the second he would wake.<p>

During Arthur's slumber, Francis had taken it upon himself to postpone the case and settle the matters of Arthur's resignation of the case. He managed to bribe the secretary – who found the letter – to keep her mouth shut. It had taken a night of guilty pleasure and a sum of money the woman considered to be rather extreme but was merely pocket change in the eyes of Francis.

Besides that, Francis had only been contacted once by Ivan but not directly by him. A skinny Lithuanian boy named Toris approached him when Francis had left the hospital two days before Arthur would wake to return home.

"To forget one's purpose is the commonest form of stupidity." He had said getting the Frenchman's attention.

Toris had introduced himself shortly after eye contact with the famous detective. The boy was around sixteen or seventeen, he was rather young to be in the service of a wealthy family head, and had girlish features. His chin was pointy but delicate and his eye lashes were long and dark which added emphasis on his glacier blue eyes. Toris's mildly long chocolate brown hair was tied in a low pony tail but failed to keep the front locks from hiding his face. Clothes wise, he was covered in black except for the light blue scarf he wore so tightly around his neck, as if he were scared to have it fly away with the wind.

"Were you sent by Ivan?" Francis asked.

"Da." He answered clumsily. Francis assumed he was taught to answer simple questions in Russian instead of his native language, "He sends a gift."

Toris's extended the gift he was holding to Francis. The Frenchman took it, brushing his hand against the smaller, bony ones of the Lithuanian servant. "Thank you."

Toris didn't respond, he turned his heels to Francis and walked away. Unsatisfied with such a brief meeting, Francis stopped the teenage boy. "Wait. Where are you going?"

"Back to Mister Braginski." Toris answered dryly.

Francis had just noticed that the boy's voice was as lifeless as the rest of the Braginski sibling's. _What torment did these people go through…? _Francis couldn't help but wonder, _There's no way people looking as depressed and lifeless as that had a life of pure delight and facility._

"But…aren't you a little young to work for such a rich man?" Francis asked.

"Perhaps I am…" He agreed, his eyes wandering to the nothingness surrounding them, "But to forget one's purpose is the commonest form of stupidity and my purpose is to serve Mister Braginski."

Toris didn't sound as if being under the reign of a possible tyrant was a bother or a blessing, he seemed indifferent as if he were taught all his life that he was meant to do one thing and one thing only. Serve and be ordered.

Without realising it, Francis had let go of Toris who disappeared in the night, without leaving a trace thus resuming the only contact they would ever have. Francis looked at his hands, to the gift he was holding. He fished through the bag and pulled out something soft and small.

A white rose.

Francis had pondered the meaning of this gift but found nothing. Not in his memories or in logic. He placed the slowly withering rose on the night stand right next to his bed and looked at it every time before falling asleep until Arthur finally awoke.

He had gotten the notice early in the morning, the day after Arthur came back. The whole time after his rise, Arthur was kept on a tight leash by the operatives of hospital and forced to stay awake and aware no matter how tired he felt. No one, not even his mother, had been contacted and notified of this important news to prevent distractions but now the Brit was ready to go and his promised ride was Francis.

There he stood, grimly awaiting his partner, or should Francis now be referred to as his ex-partner? He didn't know yet that the matter had been solved and that he was still a part of the Edelstein case. Nevertheless, Arthur was nervous about seeing Francis again. After their rough departure, Arthur had truly hated the Frenchman but how could he hate him now that he had saved him.

A car pulled up in front of him, it wasn't one of those typical ones pulled by horses, this one was made of metal painted black and ran with a motor. The Brit had heard of this new, revolutionary prototype and how it was on sale but only the rich folk could ever afford such an expensive gadget. Francis walked out of the driver's seat and opened the passenger's door for Arthur, wordlessly, he signalled him in. Arthur nodded and took his seat, the door was closed and Francis retook his seat next to him.

They drove off in a direction that Arthur knew was random due to his knowledge of the city of London and Francis's lack of knowledge. Surely, the famous detective was searching for a somewhat quiet area where they could go about some business uninterrupted by anything.

The car ride lasted a good two hours filled with nausea that Arthur was forced to keep in or else risk dirtying the pricey machinery. They now rode down a slightly bumpy road into the forest; there were barely any people there since it clearly wasn't used as often as the main roads. Soon enough, the trees had woven a ceiling keeping in most of the day light from reaching in dirt covered ground. The car then slowed down and stopped. Francis pulled a lever that probably blocked the wheels of the vehicle as so to have it stay completely immobile.

Silence now weighed in the car; Arthur refused to spare a glance to Francis and concentrated his on his view of the woods. Francis, on the other hand, had his eyes locked on the Brit and wondered how he would convey his feelings to him when he realised no words would ever do justification. He gently reached out for Arthur's chin and forced him to share eye contact. Arthur's cheeks flushed in uneasiness and his eyes soon got distracted by the nearest object but Francis wouldn't have it.

He leaned in and pressed his lips against Arthur's, surprising the latter who tried to fight him off. Clearly, he was still angry. Francis moved closer and cupped Arthur's cheek as he deepened the kiss, slipped his tongue inside and expressed his love that was mistaken for lust.

_Damn it! _Arthur hissed in his mind, _Let me go, you perverted frog!_

But the more Arthur backed away, the more Francis moved closer and eventually pinned him against the door. The kiss grew deeper and sloppier, the pleasurable sensation slowly started to make its effect on Arthur who gradually gave up his fight and gave into his own desires.

_No…_ He cried in his mind, _I promised myself I wouldn't be carried away…by these emotions…_

Francis smiled a little as Arthur began to respond to his advances and kiss back. He then began to undress his partner as his responses became more expressive. The Frenchman got to work and unbuttoned his shirt allowing him full access to teasing his torso. Arthur moaned and mewled when Francis began to pinch his nipples and glide his hands all over his chest in a pleasurable way. They brushed against the stitches and provoked a small, sore pain but was soon masked by more bliss. Their kiss then broke and Francis glued his lips to the Brit's neck. He sucked on a sensitive piece of skin located directly under Arthur's jaw line, causing shivers of pleasure to run down the smaller man's back.

"Francis…" He whispered between pants, "Stop it…"

Francis ignored him and continued, he trailed his lips down Arthur's neck after leaving a mark and licked his nipples as he began to take off his pants. Arthur clamped his hands of Francis's to stop him, which had worked. Francis stopped kissing Arthur's body and looked at him with a sad expression of a beaten puppy dog.

"I don't want to…" Arthur breathed as he tried to calm his raging lust. A little voice in his head was encouraging him: _come on, just one more time, have him touch you like he loved you._

"But I do." Francis responded before pressing their lips together again.

This time, Arthur truly gave in to his desires. As Francis moved closer to press their bodies together as they continued kissing, he hit the radio and turned it on by accident. A French commentator was speaking, probably introducing a song, but neither paid attention.

"_Dam dam tatam..._ "

Francis pulled off Arthur's pants and began pleasuring his erection by rubbing the pre-cum dripping tip. Arthur pushed his hips forward and moaned into the lustful kiss as he gripped the Frenchman's shoulders tightly.

"_Tam tam tatam…_"

"Ahn! Francis!" Arthur moaned as he came into his partner's hand.

There was just a small break for both lovers to catch their breath but lost it as they resumed kissing lustfully. However, this booming lust that emphasised their sexual desires gradually turned to uncontrollable love, but neither knew that because neither were in the state to realise it. Francis lowered his cum covered hand to Arthur's entrance and entered a finger as he began to stretch him. More moans erupted in the kiss.

"_Tam tam tatam tam tam tatam tam tam tatam…_"

"Haa! Just put it in!" Arthur begged as a third finger was inserted inside to continue the stretching, "I can't wait anymore!"

"_Dam tam tatam…_"

Francis raised Arthur's hips and aligned himself properly before probing the entrance with the tip of his erection. Arthur clutched his shoulders tightly and trembled in anticipation as he urged Francis to go on. Swiftly, Francis slipped inside the mildly properly prepared entrance ripping a loud groan of pain from the British man. He paused to have him adjust to his size but slowly continued his thrusts.

"_Tam tam tatam…_"

Faster than expected, Arthur was used to the size and started moving with Francis's thrusts. He moaned loudly and clutched at him tighter as pleasure filled him to the core and nearly ended him once his prostate was touched.

"O-ooh! More! More Francis!" Arthur screamed in ecstasy, it seemed awfully loud in the car.

"_Tam tam tatam tam tam tatam tam tam tatam…_"

Francis started to groan and moan along with Arthur as he leisurely began to lose control of himself and give in to this ridiculous pleasure.

He loved Arthur, he knew he did.

The incredibly fast pace at which his heart was beating was proof. Proof that Arthur was able to make him lose control of himself, that Arthur was able to make him go crazy with affection. This feeling was so familiar to him as it continued.

"_Le temps est bon…*_"

Arthur moaned Francis's name continuously, without hesitation as if to keep him from disappearing. Ecstasy had taken over completely and the Brit wasn't sure whether or not this was a dream.

"Dream…" Arthur breathed between moans, catching Francis's attention, "If…this is a dream…ahn…I'll kill…the one who wakes me…"

Francis smiled and deepened his thrusts.

"_Le ciel est bleu…**_"

More thrusts, more moans but alas, it wasn't meant to last. Arthur screamed louder as he tried to warn Francis about reaching his climax but couldn't find the words. He spilled his seeds all over his stomach, crying to the heavens.

_Why can't you let me have him…?_

"_J'ai deux amis qui sont aussi mes amoureux…***_"

Following a few more thrusts, Francis came deep into Arthur.

"I love you." He panted after, "I really do love you."

Arthur hadn't seemed to have registered what Francis had confessed and so he repeated himself. He looked into Arthur's eyes, cupped his cheek and repeated his love over and over again.

"_Dam tam tatam…_"

"I love you so much…" Francis said before kissing the Brit, "You have no idea…"

"What are you saying…?" Arthur asked incredulously.

"I'm saying…" Francis paused and kissed Arthur, "I don't know what I'd do…if you'd walk out of my life so suddenly…"

"_Tam tam tatam…_"

Something wet poured down Arthur's cheeks and it took him some time to realise that they were tears. There were no words that could describe how happy he was to hear that but also how much he had a hard time to believe it. The pills, surely they would have an effect, somehow, in this relationship.

"_Tam tam tatam tam tam tatam tam tam tatam…_"

"No…" Arthur sobbed, he felt childish but he was truly frustrated, "You can't be serious…"

"Why…?" Francis asked confused on his reaction, "What did I do to have you hate me so much…?"

"You idiot!" Arthur snapped hitting Francis on the head, "If I hated you, would I let you fuck me!"

"_Dam tam tatam…_"

Francis blushed a little, "Then why are you crying…?"

"I love you! That's why!" Arthur yelled angrily. "Do you know how much it hurts to have you tell me you love me too?"

"Hurt?" Francis repeated concerned, "It's not meant to hurt—"

"How?" The Brit rubbed his tears away, "How do you expect me to believe a playboy like you?"

"_Tam tam tatam…_"

"I might have slept with a lot of people, women or men," Francis began, "But I've never been unfaithful."

This affirmation rendered Arthur silent. He suddenly felt his heart flutter.

"_Tam tam tatam tam tam tatam tam tam tatam…_"

"Arthur," Francis began cupping the former's cheek again, "I promise you that I will never ever be unfaithful to you again."

The promised had touched Arthur but a word bothered him, "Again?"

Francis smiled guiltily, "Yeah…" He chuckled nervously, "It was when you were unconscious…"

Arthur landed a hard blow on the French detective's jaw, "You bastard! What an empty promise!"

"_Le temps est bon…_"

Francis laughed and caught Arthur's flailing fists, "Calm down! It was for the sake of your job!" He explained.

"You slept with my boss!"

"No, the secretary!"

"That's worse!" Arthur squeaked and struggled to free his wrists to hit Francis again.

"I didn't have a choice!" Francis hurriedly explained as he felt his grip slip, "It was to keep her from giving your resignation letter to your boss!"

"_Le ciel est bleu…_"

"Oh…that…" Arthur mumbled as he calmed down.

"Yeah," Francis smirked, "That kind of hurt my feelings…"

"You hurt _my_ feelings too!" Arthur growled back in defence.

"I know…and I'm sorry." Francis apologized with a sincere smile, "I love you and all I want is for you to be happy."

Arthur blushed and frowned, he looked away, "I forgive you…" he mumbled quickly.

"_Nous n'avons rien à faire rien que d'être heureux…****_"

* * *

><p>Toris entered the dark room of the head of the Braginski family. He gently shook his boss awake and offered him a beverage that looked like water.<p>

"_Sveiki._***** mister Braginski." He greeted.

"In Russian." Ivan ordered as he sat.

"_Privet._" Toris corrected himself.

"Da, very good." Ivan approved taking the beverage and swallowing it in one gulp. "Get me more."

"Sorry mister Braginski," Toris apologized with a light bow, "There is no vodka left."

"Pity." Ivan sighed, "And what news do we have of detective Kirkland?"

"He's out of the hospital," Toris informed, "Detective Bonnefoy picked him up, I didn't get there in time."

"Perhaps it's better this way…" Ivan thought aloud, "We wouldn't want to make our presence known to him just yet. It could be bad for us; we wouldn't be greeted the same way Bonnefoy greeted us."

Toris didn't say anything, he waited patiently next to his boss to be ordered. Ivan stared at Toris for a moment; he then pulled him onto his bed causing him to break his stone expression for a small moment.

"You're very good at staying composed." Ivan chuckled into Toris's ear as his right hand shamelessly wandered the smaller man's body, "But I can tell that my touch still frightens you."

Ivan brushed Toris's brown locks from his face and leaned in to kiss him, but he stopped, his lips were inches away from the other's. "Just kidding." Ivan smiled a fake smile before backing away and releasing him.

"Bring me my clothes," Ivan ordered, shooing Toris away, "And attend to my sisters if need be."

Toris nodded and left the room, Ivan noticed that Toris was trembling a little. _That's normal considering that he was ripped from his family and raped continuously until I found him…_ Russia chuckled.

Finding Toris was a stroke of luck. It had happened about five years ago, the Braginski family had decided to severe ties with another family that had been conspiring with an opponent. Ivan had led twenty men to terminate everyone in the main residence of the mentioned family that was no longer of any use. In a matter of minutes, they had annihilated everyone on the first and second floor. All that was left was to clear out the basement.

As they descended into the basement, they found the head of the family, having his way with a young boy of, at least, twelve. There were around twenty more men surrounding the two, waiting for their turn. Ivan was twenty-one at the time and the sight of someone so young being raped made him sick to his stomach. He had felt as if he were watching one of the many grotesque things he suffered at that age, and younger, that he had now been trying to forget desperately.

"Ahh, Ivan Braginski," the man greeted with a bashful chuckle, "I couldn't hear you. You see, these walls and ceiling are sound proof."

"Da, I noticed." He responded dryly.

"What brings you here so suddenly?" He asked. So far, during their conversation, never once had he stopped pounding into the sobbing boy, "Do excuse me, I had not been expecting you and it would only be more embarrassing if I stopped now."

"Really…?" Ivan mumbled lowly, he couldn't help but glare.

"Would you like a turn once I finish?" the man offered kindly, "This boy is actually a good fuck and he also resembles a woman, a good characteristic for those who are curious but not gay."

Ivan was the one to raise his gun first and point it at the disgusting man, "I don't think you will be finishing." He hissed, "Our bonds are now severed, you are no longer of use to me."

Before the other could respond, react, beg for his life or just think, Ivan pulled the trigger, blasting his brains out and dirtying the floor. The other men tried to grab for a gun to attack or defend themselves but were taken down almost as quickly by Ivan's men. The only one left now was the sobbing boy now covered in blood and cum.

"Do we kill him too?" Asked one of the men.

Ivan didn't answer and walked towards the boy. He knelt down and examined his face, he really did look like a girl but was definitely a man.

"Do you want to live?" Ivan asked.

The boy didn't answer, he just stared at Ivan with wide eyes.

"If you don't answer I will pull the trigger." Ivan warned.

The boy gulped and opened his mouth, but he sobbed instead. He slumped on the ground and cried; faintly, Ivan could make a _thank you_. Ivan smirk and stood, "Get some clothes on, come find me outside in five minutes," Ivan instructed, "You'll become my servant. If you decide to stay here, you'll die in the blast. We're blowing this stupid place up."

They had left and a part of Ivan honestly believed that the kid wouldn't show up, but five minutes later, he limped out of the house wearing a stained, white shirt that looked more like a dress. Around his neck was a light blue scarf that he was clutching desperately in his hands.

"A scarf?" Ivan asked.

"Another boy that used to be here gave it to me, he was Polish…" He explained in a whisper. "He's dead now."

"What's your name?" Ivan questioned as he watched his men retreat from the house after planting the explosives.

"Toris." He answered.

"Well Toris," Ivan pressed the detonator blowing the house to bits in a matter of seconds, fire rained around them, "Welcome to the Braginski family."

As he said he would, Ivan took Toris under his wing and gave him a crash course on his duties as his new, primary servant and also had him educated. However, Toris had only learned the basics of mathematics, science, grammar and reading for Ivan had more important things to task him and couldn't spare more time for him to learn. Besides, he hadn't taken Toris in as a saint – no – if he had him educated, it was merely because Toris would be of more use to him.

In the end, the cruelty Ivan had gained that brought him to his current post of importance flourished as he got used to Toris. Once the boy was well in his role, Ivan barely tolerated any of his mistakes. If Toris dropped a glass on the ground, tripped as they walked away from a significant meeting, stuttered when greeting important people or did anything else of the sort, he would get a stern beating and was never allowed to forget his mistake as to not have them be repeated. However, even with the harsh management Toris suffered through, Ivan had always made sure that he'd receive the proper treatment for any broken, bruised or fractured limb. Whenever Ivan would finish beating Toris, a sort of sentiment of remorse arose inside of him which was something he didn't like because it confirmed that the Lithuanian teenager had some sort of affect on him.

Perhaps this took birth from pity.

Empathy.

Compassion.

Memory.

It was probably the latter. There were no words for Ivan to use to describe how much Toris was the spitting image of all the hardships he had to suffer before achieving his place as head of the Braginski family. It hadn't been a succession after the predecessor's death – no, that would have meant that life had been kind to the Russian lord but that was practically impossible.

With the passing years, before landing to the present, Toris's mistakes gradually became fewer which pleased Ivan and helped with his image but disappointed him as well. What was he to do now if he were no longer able to find an excuse to touch the boy? Having that thought pervade his mind scared Ivan, he feared he had become one of the low lives who had wronged him countless times in the past but reassured himself that he had probably meant something completely different. There was no way he could feel that sick, perverted love for Toris. Never.

But this frightening sensation, no matter how much it was ignored, erase or denied, remained and began to dictate Ivan's new way of acting with Toris. When the Lithuanian made a rare mistake, he would capture him in an embrace and whisper threats.

"Careful or you'll be _punished_."

The first time that occurred, Toris's face was priceless. He was so terrified and confused on the sudden change in his boss's attitude that he couldn't even manage to apologize. The following times, the reaction had been somewhat similar but soon Toris got somewhat used to it. Nevertheless, the second Ivan touched him, Toris would begin to tremble uncontrollably and his stone expression would begin to crack, letting his eyes reveal how he truly felt about the contact.

What had it been?

Disgust?

Fear?

Confusion?

Horror?

Shock?

Sadness?

Anger?

Frustration?

Sorrow?

All of the above?

Of course being taunted in such a cruel way was probably the last thing one would expect from their saviour but Toris would be forced to remember that Ivan was the last thing to being similar to that. Even so, Toris didn't hate Ivan for what he did. Needless to say that he didn't understand the Russian's actions but never questioned them because he had come to learn that Ivan never did anything without a reason. Unlike the men who had captured him.

However, as time continued to pass under the rules of the head of the Braginski family, Toris found himself gradually more at ease. Although the Braginski siblings in charge of the group barely displayed their emotions, he had come to like them. The sisters were the ones he preferred. Maybe it was because they spoke to him the most, they always had him come over to do things with no particular importance. The first few times, he had feared Ivan's rage to come from this but he would only ask: "Where they enjoying themselves?"

"_D-da_…" Toris would stutter in response, "I-I even saw them smile…"

"Then that is good."

All in all, Toris had learned many things about Ivan Braginski over the five years he had spent by his side. Although some would say he was barely expressive, Toris would concur. He had learned that behind the cruelty he openly displayed for others as a threat and proof of his power laid the heart of a tormented man that did everything for the happiness of his sisters. Toris hadn't known what Ivan had gone through and he probably never would, but one thing was for sure, the man still had a heart, he just hid it well.

* * *

><p>Toris returned with a fresh pair of clothes for his boss. Russia was out of bed, standing at the window, watching the rain pelt down. "This place is rather grim, da?"<p>

"Y-yes…" Toris agreed but soon changed his tune as he received a glare from Ivan, "I-I mean _da…_"

Ivan smiled, "I want you to get a car ready," he said taking his clothes from the little Lithuanian teen, "Tell my sisters that we will be going to down town London."

Toris nodded and left the room but was stopped by his boss.

"Toris." Ivan called, halting the former, "You will be staying in this house. You'll need to greet the guests. Don't make me look bad."

"I won't sir." He responded quietly before leaving the room.

* * *

><p>* The time is good<p>

** The sky is blue

*** I have two friends that are also my lovers

**** We have nothing else to do but to be happy

***** Good morning in Lithuanian

* * *

><p><strong>So? Does the title fit?<strong>

**And should Toris fall for his boss Ivan Braginski? LOL I don't even know why I'm asking you people because I probably won't take your opinion in consideration xD Aren't I wonderful?**

**Anyways, I'm trying to finish a different serie *cough* World War III *cough***

**SEE YOU NEXT CHAPTER!**


	15. Snow from the East

**So ACT II is about to come to an end (in like two or three more chapters)**

**I've only planned for there to be three ACTs in this thing so I guess we can say the case is coming to a close (but not too soon)**

**Anyways...Reviews are always appreciated and I wanted to get around to thanking the anonymous reviewers (I'd reply to them but they're never logged in ...I wonder why *sarcastic*)**

**ENJOY!**

* * *

><p>The following day, Francis had briefed Arthur on the reason why they had to go pay a visit to the head of the Braginski family. Remembering that Braginski had hinted a threat to the life of Lord Weillschmidt if their business was ever told to unwanted ears, Francis took care into lying and coming up with an alternative reason to the visit. While Arthur was in a coma, Francis dug up information on public knowledge where Lord Edelstein made an important business deal with the wealthy Russian family. He had reasoned with Arthur that it was a well-known fact that the Braginski family was a crime family but it was never able to be proven in court no matter how many times they were brought to it. Like all criminals, the Braginski family seemed to be one step ahead of the police department when it came to covering murders, kidnaps, threats and other devious activity.<p>

And so, the two primary detectives returned to the Chinatown where they had met with the seer, Yao, and were directed to the Korean man at the reception desk. The perky fellow informed them that there was a car already waiting for them and all they had to do was step out at the back of the hotel.

They did as told and were seated in a car where they had sufficient privacy from the driver's ear to speak about the case.

"A lot of things have been happening ever since you joined the case," Arthur began as he fished through the papers he had brought with him, "So I'd like to recap on the new things we found since there might be something we missed. I want to start with Lord Ivan Braginski."

Francis nodded with a minimum of seriousness and started to inform his partner, "Ivan Braginski is reported to be a shrewd man with a stone face and a cold heart," He tried to act as if he wasn't basing himself off a personal encounter which was rather difficult but some how managed. "He seems to enjoy toying with government agents or officials by admitting to his family's notorious activity in a matter in which the one hearing said information knows the truth but can't prove it. He and his family have been brought to court over twenty times on the count of mass murder, trickery, breaking and entering, kidnapping, assault, assassination; basically anything you can think of, they were accused of it."

"Right, and no one was able to prove any of these accusations?" Arthur stated more than asked, "Suppose that this man was in charge of the death of Lord Edelstein, how would he have done it and why? We know for a fact he wasn't anywhere near the Edelstein mansion so he couldn't have done it himself."

With that question Francis began another lie weaved with a series of truths, "Aside from his clear but unproven criminal activity, Ivan Braginski is the CEO of a powerful empire of military technology in Russia; not only does he supply Russia with weapons but also neighbouring countries such as Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia, Belarus, Ukraine, Moldova, Romania, Mongolia, China and many more. With his international commerce comes a large, influential power over all those governments."

"But what does this have to do with the Edelstein family?" Arthur interrupted as he rubbed his temple, he was receiving a lot of information all at once, "The Edelstein family is in charge of a famous culinary industry that spans all over Europe and is making progress to North America. There's no reason for Lord Braginski to want to associate himself with such a department."

"Don't say such commoner-outsider things!" Francis schooled to Arthur's anger, "You just said the exact reason to why he would want to associate himself with Lord Edelstein and vice versa."

"I don't get it." Arthur groaned deeply.

"Lord Edelstein has commerce dealing with all of Europe which is slowly expanding to North America due to the tight relationship between the two continents," the Frenchman explained in a snobby tone of superiority. "Ivan Braginski, on the other hand, has commerce dealing with strictly the Northern and partially southern part of Europe as well as most of Asia. The whole point of having a successful industry is to have it expand internationally and gain more money, more power for whatever ambition the head of the organisation has in mind. From what I found out, Lord Edelstein was planning on expanding to Asia as well but needed a partner to do so for imposing European cuisine on such a closed up continent can prove to be excruciatingly challenging. Ivan Braginski is basically supplying all of Asia with high class weaponry and military technology and so has a big influence on the area, as I said before. He is steadily expanding all across Europe but at a slow pace; probably, to augment the pace of expansion and offer his goods to North America, he offered a mutual exchange to Lord Edelstein. He had something that Lord Edelstein wanted and the latter what he wanted."

Francis finally stopped explaining the business strategy the two had taken up to pull something out of his own folder and hand it to the Englishman.

"It was something that surprised most commoners because they didn't understand and so there was an article made," Francis explained briefly and handed the newspaper to his partner who began skimming it. The stack of papers contained the colourless image of Lord Edelstein and Ivan Braginski shaking hands, "It's basically an interview with Lord Edelstein since the interviewer was clearly to afraid to talk to Braginski. If you read the answers Lord Edelstein gives to certain questions, you'll see that he speaks as if there's something more than a trade of mutual interest of expansion."

"_Are you aware of the criminal charges against Lord Braginski and his organisation as well as the rumours of putting those of no longer use to execution?_" Arthur read aloud, "Does he actually do that?"

"Don't know; guess we'll have to ask him." Francis shrugged. "Read his reply."

"_As you have said, they are but rumours._" Arthur stopped immediately, "He doesn't mention anything about the criminal charges."

"Exactly, but keep reading." Francis persisted.

"_However we have come to a clear understanding of the terms of this alliance we have put in place,_" Arthur paused before continuing. He had noticed how loosely Lord Edelstein spoke as if to tease the imagination of those who didn't understand or, almost, as if to warn them of something else. "_Some of you do not necessarily understand the reasoning for a culinary empire to join the favour of a military empire and so I tell you all that it is merely in the mutual interest of international expansion. Nothing more_."

"Nothing more…" Arthur repeated sceptically, "They may be words written on paper but it feels as if he's lying or trying to convince the others that nothing illegal is happening."

"That's exactly the case," Francis confirmed, "Now I wasn't necessarily there to deduce that for myself, but I trust in the feeling in my gut that says something else happened during that private meeting. Read the last question."

"_Assuming you signed the terms of this _alliance_ in the form of a contract, who have you chosen to be the witnesses?_" Arthur read, he thought the question was bizarre but remembered the mention of the criminal past of the Braginski family and figured that the interviewer meant if they were people influenced by the Russian Lord or not. "_Of course Lord Braginski has chosen his sisters to partake as witnesses but also a famous merchant from China. They are people he trusts completely and have a large influence on the business choices he makes. I too have chosen people important to me and that also have an important influence on my own decisions, my fiancée Lady Elizaveta Hédéváry and, lastly, my close friend and famed business partner Lord Gilbert Weillschmidt._"

"So two of the suspects participated in a potentially illegal affair, hun?" Arthur assessed.

"_Oui_, not only that but Lady Hédéváry is taking the pills and so is erasing her memories," Francis pointed out gravely, "The only person besides her and those carefully selected by Braginski that can tell us anything about what happened in there is Lord Weillschmidt."

"And we all know how cooperative he is." Arthur snorted sarcastically as he sunk into his seat. "So, to resume, if Lord Braginski actually was behind the murder of Lord Edelstein it would have something to do with their mutual international expansion deal and, more likely, with the notorious business that took place during the alliance meeting. But how? How would he have done it?"

"I'm a little puzzled on that too," Francis, admitted with a sigh, he passed his hand through his hair. "I figured he might have sent an assassin or something but another idea came to mind. It's possible he was working with someone else to remove Lord Edelstein for a reason of some sort and that the deal was just a means of getting close to our victim to have an easier time of _erasing_ him."

"That's pretty far fetched in my opinion," Arthur admitted, "I think the reasoning could be much simpler than that. Maybe Lord Braginski finally got the connections he needed to do whatever he wanted and didn't need Lord Edelstein anymore and just eliminated him."

"Perhaps but that's too simple." Francis argued, "Ivan Braginski is a smarter man than that, I mean, he did escape hardcore accusations from court more than twenty times. I don't think he would have ridded himself of Lord Edelstein so quickly after gaining said connections. Getting what you need in the name of an alliance takes time and the interview dates from two years ago."

"Well how long does it take? Two years seems sufficient enough." Arthur growled. Francis was getting on his nerve.

"Depends." Francis began, "If the connection is easily influenced, a matter of weeks of convincing from Lord Edelstein and Braginski would be set to go. However, it is Braginski we're dealing with and most people are weary of things involving him, and so convincing on the part of Lord Edelstein can take up to months. Then for Braginski to get whatever he wanted from said connection would take much longer since – if it whatever it is, is illegal – the association could uncooperative or reluctant and Braginski would have to find a way to get his way."

"Fine, point taken." Arthur sighed, "I guess we can think up more theories after we interview him."

"I'd want to interview his sisters too." Francis added before the conversation topic could be changed.

"Good idea," The Brit granted, "We'll also have to pay another visit to Lord Weillschmidt to ask him about the meeting."

Francis nodded. The Frenchman felt bad for lying to his partner and his love but he constantly reminded himself it was for his safety and protection. The incident at Arthur's apartment was deemed a criminal act and the pyromaniac has yet to be identified but Francis frankly believed that it was some sort of warning from either the murderer or Ivan himself. Whoever it was, he or she was linked to the case somehow.

"Come to think of it," Arthur started, "Why don't you put _Lord_ in front of Lord Braginski's name? He'll find it insulting and it'll be bad for the image of our police department, let alone yours."

"Don't worry about it." Francis brushed off, _I doubt he'll care_.

Before Arthur could begin nagging his partner or suggest summing up the information of the other suspects, the driver stopped the car to indicate that they had arrived at the given destination. The two detectives stepped out of the car and observed their surroundings.

_Merde, I forgot to look at the surroundings to remember my way here if I ever needed to come back…_ Francis cussed to himself.

_When did it start raining?_ Arthur wondered as he shielded his head with his hands.

Finally, the two's gaze finally landed on the mansion looming above them menacingly, daring them to enter the daunting structure. To add to its creepy allure was the vegetation that had grown around it, having it seem abandoned and haunted. Vines gripped tightly the dull, grey, used bricks and decorated the contour of the small, shaded windows.

_I don't remember it this gloomy…_ Francis thought, _then again, I don't remember much from that time…_

Pulling the two from their thoughts was the sound of the driver leaving them a few steps away from the dark doors of the home. The two exchanged looks as the car quickly disappeared on the beaten road surrounded by thick vegetation.

"I guess we'll have to count on the kindness of the Braginski family to get back to London." Francis concluded as he walked out of the rain and to the doors separating them from answers.

Arthur quietly followed and jolted as the door opened with a horrific creek without any knocking on the part of either of them.

"To forget one's purpose is the commonest form of stupidity." Toris greeted quietly, he gestured for them to come in. "His Lordship has been expecting you."

Francis froze briefly at the sight of Toris but brushed it off and entered the house alongside with Arthur who seemed slightly troubled by something.

"What's wrong?" Francis asked.

"Nothing…" He mumbled, "It's just…there was a nurse when I woke up, and she said the same thing to me before leaving…I told another nurse that walked in minutes after but she thought I was crazy…"

"What did she say to you?" The Frenchman asked dryly, he hadn't expected for Ivan to send someone assess Arthur and didn't like it.

"That I was crazy…" Arthur repeated, "Weren't you listening to me?"

"Not the second nurse, the first one." Francis specified.

"She just told me about everything that happened and my condition." Arthur answered slowly, he began to wonder why Francis was so interested. "Then she left, why?"

Francis shook his head, "Nothing." The famous detective turned his attention back to the young, Lithuanian servant. "May we meet with Ivan Braginski?"

"I'm afraid that Mister Braginski has left alongside his sisters the previous day," Toris informed monotonously. "They have yet to return. Until then, Mister Braginski has asked me to keep you occupied."

The twelve bells of noon suddenly struck grimly in the sinister home.

"You must be hungry," the boy concluded, "Please follow me to the dinning room where a fine meal awaits for you."

Without heading a word of protest, Toris lead the way through the dim halls of the mansion. Francis and Arthur were both on his heels, sticking to a close distance due to avoid the mishap of losing their guide in the darkness.

"_Francis…_"

Francis turned to the female voice that had called his name so sadly. He stopped and looked behind and caught the glimpse of a white dress disappearing into a room on the left. Tormented by an odd feeling residing in his gut, he trotted towards the woman, away from Toris and Arthur, unnoticed.

He reached the room and opened the door but found it empty save for a black Grand Piano. Inexplicably attracted to the instrument that seemed ever so familiar, Francis moved closer to it until his hand brushed against its freshly polished surface.

"_Francis…_" her soft voice rang.

"_Ou__ est tu?*_" Francis asked looking around the empty room.

He hadn't understood why he spoke in French before the woman appeared before him like a ghost conjured out of thin air.

She bore the softest, kindest smile of an angel descended from the Heavens; her hair was that of the purest gold shinning warmth in the cold room where they stood but what mesmerized Francis the most was her sapphire blue eyes and the love they demonstrated. He didn't know how but he knew she loved him and that he loved her in return, almost more than he loved Arthur.

"_Je t'aime…_**" She whispered.

The feeling was almost cruel. Without being able to control himself, Francis began to cry heavy tears and desperately reached for her. He didn't know who she was, why she was there, why she loved him and why he loved her but he knew he missed her. He knew he missed her so damn much and that, now that he had found her again, he wanted to hold her.

Found her again.

Again.

Why was that word there? He was positive that he never saw her before, that he didn't know who she was, that he didn't know anything of anything about her. And so the question remained, why had be found her _again_?

"_J-je…je t'aime…_" He stuttered pitifully as he reached to touch her cheek.

"_Je le sais…_***" She responded softly and leaned into his hand.

Her skin was soft and flawless, like a porcelain doll, but it held no warmth and that was how Francis knew she wasn't real. That's how he knew an illusion was pictured before him.

"_Mais il faut que tu m'oublie…_" She said as she began to fade away. "_Parce que je ne te fais que du mal…_****"

Then she was gone and Francis was alone in a room, with a Grand Piano. All he could do was stare ahead of him, where the beautiful angel had once stood and mourn her loss.

"_Mais je t'aime…_*****" He whispered to no one.

The door creaked open quietly, shortly after, and Toris peaked in. "Mister Bonnefoy, Detective Kirkland is awaiting for you in the dinning room." He cooed.

Francis quickly wiped his tears away and nodded. "Right, sorry." He mumbled.

"To forget one's purpose is the commonest form of stupidity**.**" Toris whispered before leading the way once more.

_I think I might have forgotten my purpose…_

* * *

><p>Arthur paced in the dinning room; he eyed the plates laid on the table and the content which they held. They all seemed to be from different countries; one of them contained a Quiche Lorraine decorated with parse accompanied with a side of escargot and red wine, which Arthur thought to be an odd combination. Next to said plate clearly depicting some of the most known French food was _ which Arthur knew to be typically from Russia with a glass of water. The same meal rested on the other side of the dish Arthur deemed was for Francis. At the head of the table was _ another meal from Russia with, again, a glass of water. Then there was a plate he assumed was for him, _ with _ to drink.<p>

Toris had said that the Braginski family weren't present in the home but supplementary dishes on the table indicated that they were expected soon.

Very soon.

"_Arthur Kirkland…_" A voice that was all too familiar called from behind the British detective.

He turned to see the man that had called his name but Arthur found no one.

"_The queer detective living in the shadow of the famous Detective Bonnefoy._" The same voice joked from, again, behind Arthur. "_How bothersome._"

Arthur spun on himself just in time to see a silver flash dart for him. "_He must disappear!_" the voice yelled.

Arthur fell over due to the force of an invisible impact. Subconsciously, the spooked detective reached for the scar on his stomach; that voice had been familiar as were the words spoken.

"Look _sestra_, he's sitting on the ground." Stated a woman that had entered the room unnoticed with two other individuals. Arthur looked up and was stunned by her abnormally large breasts.

"How foolish," Said the youngest, "Perhaps he is still not well?"

Arthur looked at the youngest and noticed that she looked exactly like the nurse that had spoken to him.

_Wait…that is her…_ Arthur concluded as he noticed the white ribbon.

"Da, that could very well be it," Spoke the tallest and only man amongst them, "He did partake in a rather shameful activity with our good friend Bonnefoy after being released from the hospital."

Arthur blushed without meaning to, _What…how do they know—?_

"That's right…" Remembered the one with the big breasts, "Our little Toris followed them to make sure…"

"Shh, _sestra_, you must not say." The man said in a tone filled with amusement and, vividly, cruelty. "If Detective Kirkland learns, he will send us to prison."

"But we can easily kill him now." Stated the youngest.

"Da, that's right, how silly of me." Chuckled the man, "But that would defy the whole purpose of inviting him over."

"Wait…you're…Lord Braginski?" Arthur mumbled.

The doors to the dinning room opened once more to reveal Toris and Francis.

"Ah, Detective Bonnefoy." Ivan greeted with childlike innocence. "Now that we're all here, perhaps we should dine, da? The food will get cold."

* * *

><p>*Where are you? (in French)<p>

** I love you (in French)

*** I know you do (in French)

**** But you need to forget me…Because all I do is hurt you (in French)

***** But I love you (in French)

** The notes Francis took can be seen in chapter 11 – Song of the Broken Record

* * *

><p><strong>I guess at some point, at the beginning of ACT II I said that I'd concentrate more on the case and mention Jeanne a little less...I'm not sure if I'm doing that but whatever xD I can never really do as I say or else I feel like...like it's already done and I don't want to write about it...<strong>

**Though one thing is for sure, the next chapter will have the questionning of Ivan and his sisters and then there will eventually be a recap of all the information the detectives know (including what Francis found out when he interviewed Gilbert so many chapters ago - Chapter 11 (I think) to view his notes)**

**Anyways...**

**SEE YOU NEXT CHAPTER!**


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